Quintessence
by Bolinlover123
Summary: Sequel to "Intuition". Please read that first. Three weeks after the Abdicator's demise, Bolin just wishes his life would go back to normal. When he causes a horrible event, he is faced with the biggest choice of his life. Now he must hone his abilities, or risk losing everything. And when he comes across a group of kids who seem to be like him, will he find what he's looking for?
1. Crash and Burn

Some days, Bolin really hated his lifestyle. Every time he thought things were going right for once, the Universe decided to kick him the balls yet again.

He wished that he wasn't a part of Team Avatar anymore. That he was still a probender, relatively innocent from the horrors that seemed to accompany him everywhere he went: from his parents' brutal deaths, to the terror of Amon, to the Harmonic Convergence, and then to now, with the whole reign of the Abdicator, where he'd discovered his newest Power of willing spontaneous combustion—the Power to blow things up with his mind. Like he needed to add _that_ to his Freak List of having visions, and seeing ghosts.

Fucking Universe.

After the Abdicator's demise three weeks ago, he had tried to use his Power once, to see if he still could do it. He'd stuck out into the dead of night, into a vacant part of town with only a lone Spirit or two passing. The rusted trash bins that had littered the alley hadn't seemed particularly sentimental to anybody, and, after looking through them for any salvageable scraps of food that he knew would be a feast to some orphan kid somewhere, he'd tested it out.

He must have stood in that alleyway for hours, just glaring at those smelly things, snapping his hands at them like a lunatic. He'd glared at them; he'd closed his eyes, and slammed his freaky-glowing hands onto of their metal surface until he was sure he'd woken up the whole damn neighborhood.

He screamed and punched a hole in the wall with his bending; not sure what he felt at all, and feeling so many emotions at once. Surely one less freaky power was a good thing? Bolin told himself that the bastard Abdicator was wrong; his creepy light show and chanting, followed by the monster getting blown to bits, was a one-time thing.

But the paranoia clawed at his insides. It told him that the evil still bubbled inside him. It told him to take a knife and end it all. Just as it whispered that the Abdicator was watching him from the shadows, his tangible form ready to pop out any moment and get inside his head.

The Abdicator's bloodstained flesh flashed across his vision, and he swore he was back in that hell hole once more. Bolin spun around as he heard a clambering noise, and his heart nearly dropped out of his stomach as he saw the trash bins shaking like leafs. They had to be floating about a foot off the ground, their metal covers banging against each other.

_Spontaneous Combustion!_ The Abdicator snapped, _That changes things. You c-can't be aloud to live._

_"_NO!" Bolin screamed, and the bins fell to the ground with a huge thud, dust flying everywhere. A few cat-owls screeched. Somewhere, half a block away, a window opened, and a angry yell to _Keep it down out there! Do you have any idea what time it is?!_ echoed into the night.

Bolin felt his body shake; his hands were on fire, as the burning glow dimmed away from his palms. He stuffed his hands in is armpits, and leaned against the wall to catch his breath.

"What's wrong with me?" he tilted his head to the sky, "Mom...Dad...I wish you were here. I need you. No one understands me..." he closed his eyes, as the tears began to flow. "I feel so _alone_."

He slept in that alley all night, curled against the wall, begging for the nearly forgotten feeling of childish innocence.

He swore to never test his Power again.

It would seem, he came to realize, that his Power would only present itself if his adrenaline level shot up to skyscraper heights, or if he was in mortal danger. His friends tried to get his mind off of killing The Abdicator and all the deaths, by proposing a road trip. (_You gotta go outside, Bo, you haven't left your apartment in a week,_ and _C'mon, Team Avatar needs a serious vacation, what do you say?_ and _We miss you_.)

The idea was something that, after much hemming and hawing, Bolin agreed to, if a bit reluctantly. (Even he had to admit that he was becoming a bit of a recluse, hiding in his apartment) But, after all, maybe this would take his mind off of things, and would get everyone in the street to stop either sending him death glares and vengeful elements his way, or ( because he didn't know which was worse) stop rushing up to him and shaking his hand and praising him for something that he truly had had no hand in: if Nyla and Kuzon hadn't been there to help him, he wouldn't have had the strength to kill that son of a bitch. That, he was sure of.

It was eventually decided that on this ordinary road trip to the Earth Kingdom, that Asami was going to show several high-ranking Omashu bigwigs her newest model of 'Jet Plane A12C90T, _the fastest one on the market!_', Mako and Korra were going to go to Ba Sing Se and see the Cave of Two Lovers—and Bolin thinks that Mako may want to ask Korra a certain special question down there, and maybe give their relationship another chance—while Bolin would go sightseeing in Omashu and maybe—if he was lucky—try to pick up a girl or two. They'd each have the entire weekend to themselves and would meet up back at the train station before heading back to Republic City by Monday morning.

Alas, Asami's Satomobile had run out of gas about fifty miles to Ba Sing Se.

Did he say it before? We'll, he'd say it again. _Fucking Universe._

Cursing and spluttering, the Krew had to drag her car to the nearest service stop—which was a mile away. Korra and Bolin tried to make it a bit easier, but neither of them knew how to metalbend at all, and they couldn't exactly bend up the road without the police stopping them. (Bolin sincerely regretted not accepting Lin's offer of tutelage nearly a year ago at this point). Nearly two hours later, they made it to the service stop, each nearly passing out from relief.

"Can I help you folks?" asked an old man with a head full of white hair and a few missing teeth. His entire body (minus his head) was smeared in soot and stank of gasoline. Next to him was a younger man, who was probably his son, who was wearing a relatively clean uniform with his name—Jinn—sewn onto it.

Asami nodded in exhaustion. "Two gallons of... gasoline, please..." She gave him a stack of yuans, and Jinn and the older man immediately got the gallons of gas and began to fill up their car.

Bolin wiped the sweat off of his forehead. "Spirits," Bolin stated to Mako and Korra, who were leaning against the car, sweat soaking through their clothes. "Bro, I think that's the hardest I've ever been worked."

"Even the time when you were twelve and Shin made you overturn that full prison van that was on the way to jail?" Mako asked, fanning himself with one hand.

"Even then," Bolin confirmed.

"_Pffft_." Korra said to them in between gasping breaths. "I…was…pushed way…harder than that…during my Avatar…training."

Bolin tried not to snicker at Korra's attempt to sound more macho than them. Asami didn't even bother to make an attempt at sounding macho—after the car was filled up, she slid down onto the concrete and sat there with her chin in her hands.

"Uh huh," Bolin said with a smirk.

"Guys, I know we're mostly Fire Nation," Asami whipped her forehead, "but it is _hot_ out. We gotta get some leechi juice, or I'm gonna kneel over."

Before anyone else could agree, a big, black van covered in scratches pulled up to the gas station.

Jinn gulped as he eyed them. "Father, get inside," he ordered the older man, who immediately shook his head.

"Jinn—"

"Go!" Jinn demanded, and the older man walked into the service stop just as four burly men exited the vehicle.

"What's the matter?" Korra asked the young man, slipping instantly from _tired-teenager-mode_ to _I-am-the-Avatar-tremble-before-me mode_.

"These guys come around once a month complaining about the same thing," Jinn whispered, coming over to wipe a rag on the hood of the Satomobile. Asami stood up and leaned closer to hear, as did Bolin and Mako.

"Never happy about what we do. Their car got into this accident because my father messed up their carburetor and it went 'boom' in the middle of the highway and-" Jin gasped as they came closer. Everyone fell silent.

"Hey!" one of them shouted. He had muscles the size of Mako's head, and a menacing expression on his face. Even Korra looked a bit intimidated. Either Jinn had the best poker face on the planet, or wasn't afraid of these punks. He calmly turned towards them, shoving the rag in his pocket.

"Can I help you?" he asked calmly.

"Yeah," said Muscles, (the tattoo on his arm clearly stated his name) crossed his arms over his chest. "Your pops got my car totaled!"

"Looks fine to me," was Jinn's simple response. "Aside from a few scratches, it doesn't look too bad."

"Carburetor blew up halfway down the interstate," growled another hulk of man. "Jonno's still in the hospital."

"Well, phooey for Jonno," said Jinn nonchalantly. "If you wanted me or my father to do a nicer job, maybe you could've paid us the correct amount of yuans, and not have ransacked our shop!"

"How much did you pay?" Asami suddenly asked. The Hulk and Muscles turned to Asami and looked at her like she'd evolved from pond scum.

"What's it to you, sweetheart?" the Hulk inquired with a cocked eyebrow.

"Well..." The heiress began, "Standard price for a fixed carburetor is a hundred and fifty yuans. That, plus the standard price of gasoline, is maybe one-sixty plus tax. I'm assuming you got a paint job too, so that brings up the final number to one-eighty eight," explained Asami with the air of someone explaining that two and two made four. "How much did you pay Jinn?"

Bolin, Mako, Korra and Jinn's mouths dropped to the pavement. The Hulk looked at Asami with a whole new level of interest.

"How'd a pretty broad like you get to know so much about cars?"

"When you're the CEO of New Future Industries, you kinda have to," replied Asami. The Hulk's jaw crashed to the pavement next.

"How much did you pay him?" she repeated for the third time. Muscles exchanged a look with another brawny guy, who was obviously the leader of the gang.

"Asami..." Bolin whispered nervously, "Cool it." Musles eyed him with a growl.

"One hundred and twenty-five yuans," said the leader, "which is more than he deserves."

Asami rolled her eyes. "That's not even the full price for a used carburetor, let alone to fix one."

"Shut up, bitch," shouted the leader, and Asami took a step back before crashing against the Satomobile. The gang of thugs didn't notice.

"Where's your Poppa, Jinny-boy?" asked the leader.

"That's Mister Jinny-boy to you," retorted Jinn. "And he's not here. Went to town to get a shipment of used parts. You can buy one, if you want, for seventy-five yuans. Half off."

What happened next, would set off a horrible chain of events that not one of them would be able to forget. Especially Bolin.

Muscles punched Jinn in the face, and Jinn flew backwards over the hood of the car.

"Jin!" He didn't get up again. Asami ran over to check on him, but the leader grabbed her.

"Uh, uh, uh…" he stated with a terrifying leer. "Not happ'ning, sweetheart."

"Let. Me. Go," Asami growled, thrashing in his grip.

Korra stepped forward. "Let her go right now," said Korra, "and I'll let you guys go without missing most of your vital organs and large intestines."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" asked Muscles.

The Hulk elbowed him. "That's the Avatar, you imbecile," the Hulk muttered under his breath.

The leader looked interested, and Muscles took a step back. "Is that so?" the leader asked Asami. "Is she really the Avatar, sweetheart?" he trailed a finger down her face. Asami responded by kicking him in the groin and trying to run away, but the leader immediately earthbent a hole in the ground, and Asami fell face first into it. She tried to right herself, but was frozen in place and started to sink. Mako, Korra and Bolin tried to move forward and help her, but Muscles bent a six-foot wall of mud between them and the heiress.

"Help me!" she screamed, and Korra and Bolin eradicated the wall in one fell swoop.

Once the wall crumbled to dust, however, Asami was nowhere to be found.

"No!" Mako yelled.

Bolin saw red instanly. "You bitch!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, and suddenly his voice sounded much deeper, but he didn't care. Asami Sato, heiress, badass driver, CEO, his_ best friend,_ was dead.

And they'd killed her.

He felt his whole body tremble. "YOU KILLED HER!" His eyes suddenly blazed green. He felt a huge headache coming on, but ignored it as his rage came out. He screamed a jumble of chants in a voice that didn't sound like his own, and the Hulk collapsed to the ground, blood leaking out of his nose, ears, and mouth while screaming bloody murder.

Vaguely, Bolin heard someone yell behind him, but didn't care as he took a step closer to the now trembling thugs.

"P-please, stop...!" they whimpered.

"You fucking murderous sons of bitches!" he roared, and snapped his glowing hands at them, tossing them into the wall of the service stop. The wind began to howl, and sand swirled around the remaining two thugs. The Hulk lay dead on the ground.

"Bring her back up!" screamed the leader to Muscles, who immediately stomped his foot on the ground and brought a coughing and gasping, dirt-covered Asami Sato, who was curled in the fetal position, and was very much alive. Bolin's skin was doused in sweat, like he'd been running a marathon. He saw perfectly well that Asami was still alive, and he tried so hard, _so, so hard_ to stop-and couldn't. _Is this what it's like for Korra in the Avatar State_? Bolin wondered, the only conscious part of him remaining.

He didn't care. He screamed in fury once more; his mind-grip on the thugs making their eyes blaze green as well, as the crimson kept pooling out of their ears and mouths.

"Ahhh-_AHHHH!_ _P-p-please..."_

Bolin smiled a crooked grin and leered over them. Her raised his palms over their heads-

"_Bo!"_ Mako. His big brother screaming from fifty feet away. Bolin froze. He turned around slowly, as if in slow motion, and saw through his green-tinted vision, his brother gripping the hood of the Satomobile, squinting at him through the sand blowing ferociously in the wind.

"Snap out of it, Bolin! Come on!" Damnit, his voice even cracked a little.

"Bolin!" Korra called.

_I must look like hell now_, Bolin thought hysterically. Bolin opened his mouth to say he _couldn't stop_, and what came out instead was, "_Kil-na-gi-poh",_ and Mako collapsed to the ground with a horrible, heart wrenching scream.

Both Bolin and Korra yelled at the same time. "MAKO!"

Bolin snapped out of his trance as quickly as if someone had flicked a switch. He sunk to his knees in exhaustion. The sand and wind stopped turning, and the glowing faded from his eyes. He suddenly saw everything around him as if for the first time: the Hulk dead on the ground, the leader and Muscles whimpering and sobbing like little girls with blood staining their ears and noise. Asami curled up in the fetal position, an unconscious Jinn behind the Satomobile, and a whimpering Korra kneeling next to Mako.

He suddenly felt overwhelmed by memories, remembering Mako and himself kneeling next to his parents' dead bodies. He dry heaved, before staggering over to them.

_ "M-Mako?_" Bolin pleaded, begging the Spirits for his big brother to answer.

He took a step forward and Korra snarled, gripping Mako's body. "Monster!" she yelled. Bolin took a step back as if he'd been shot.

Korra looked shocked at herself. "Oh…Bo—I…I didn't…_Bolin_…" her stammers had no effect on him whatsoever. He knew she was right.

He was a monster.

"Bo?" Korra whispered. "I didn't mean it, I d-didn't, I swear I didn't…I'm sorry!"

Bolin sighed. This was neither the right time nor place for this conversation. He forced himself to grin, but it came out as a pained grimace.

"'S fine," he lied unconvincingly, because how could he tell Korra that she may as well have stabbed him in the heart with a rusty dagger? Her words had the same effect.

"M-Mako?" he asked.

Korra sighed. "He has a pulse," she said, and instantly Bolin felt as if a thousand tons of despair and grief were dropped off of his shoulders."We need to get him to a healer."

Bolin touched Mako's shoulder, and instantly was lost in a swarm of memories:

_M-Mako, why aren't they waking up? Wake up! Mommy, daddy! Wake up! Please!_

_Welcome to the Triads, boys!_

_Here,_ _Bo_, Mako wrapped the scarf around his small shoulders, looking at him with sad eyes as he griped the fabric tightly, _take care of Dad for me, until I get back, okay?_

_BOLIN!_

_Round two goes to the Tigerdillos!_

_Momma? Poppa? Please, you have to wake up, please,_ Mako begs his parents, tears streaming down his face. _You can't leave me…please, please, please wake up. I'll do anything. Anything…Spirits, wake up…"_

_You will rule them all, Number Twelve. You are their Master._

"Bo?" Korra put her hand on his shoulder, and he was back.

He blinked and realized tears were streaming down his face. "I really _am_ a monster," he whispered.

Then he shot up, and sprinted away.

"Bolin!" Korra screamed, "Wait! Come back!"

But he couldn't. Nothing was okay anymore.


	2. No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Bolin slumped at the kitchen table, feeling ridiculous in the suit that Korra and Asami had insisted he'd wear, to make himself look more presentable. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest, and he drummed his fingers rapidly on the table to alleviate some of the stress, but to no avail. He wished Mako was there, but knew that Lin and some other officers were at the courthouse with his big brother already. Bolin didn't blame Mako for not wanting to be with him...his actions had put Mako in a fucking coma. It was a miracle the firebender had lasted this long.

"This can't be happening," Bolin found himself whispering. The thought grew louder and stronger with the four simple words. Why was this happening to him? Why did everything happen to him? Whywhywhy? Why was everything his FAULT?!

"AHH!" In a sudden burst of anger, he overthrew the kitchen table, sending plates and chopsticks crashing to the floor. "Damn it!" he shouted, earthbending the table across the room.

"Fuck! Why does this always happen to me?"

In his mind, he could hear the Abdicator laughing. _Oh, Number Twelve...everything happens for a reason...you're the Chosen One._

"What if I don't want to be the fucking Chosen One?!" Bolin shouted, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "I didn't ask for my Power!" Suddenly the Abdicator disappeared and was replaced by Nyla, the Spirit he hadn't seen nor heard of in awhile. He was almost relieved to see her.

_The Spirits chose you for a reason, Bolin_, whispered Nyla, fingering the fraying ends of her dress and gazing up at him.

"I didn't want to be Chosen!" he yelled at her with such force that her form flickered and twisted before reappearing again. "I hate this! Mako hates me and my friends are afraid of me and I'm a fucking murderer and oh fucking Spirits_ why am I even still alive?!"_

"You're the Chosen One," repeated Nyla in the voice of the long-dead Abdicator before vanishing. His now-constant headache grew larger and he suddenly shouted, "_Go-no_-_der-tah!",_ and the kitchen exploded, shards of glass and slivers of wood and chopsticks exploding into a million pieces, hitting the now-dirty-and-ruined marble floor with an audible thud.

Bolin backed away, choking. "No," he whispered. "Spirits, please, let it end...I'm not a monster...I am not a monster..." Still whispering the truth under his breath, he ran out of the kitchen, out of the house, and all the way to City Hall.

Once there, he pushed open the doors of the courtroom, immediately sending cameras flashing, the press into an uproar and whispers, points and shouts of:

"_Why did you kill them, Bolin?"_ and "_Child Killer, Child Killer!",_ something that has become his slogan over the last few weeks. Korra was at his side in an instant, along with Lin and Asami and Mako, who leaned heavily on a walking stick but still shot the people in the courtroom death stares.

Tears shot to Bolin's eyes, but he kept his head held down and walked into a side room. Inside was his lawyer; a young woman who had been friends with Asami back in high school, named Yuni Keiko. She was a tenacious brunette with an excellent reputation in the legal community, according to Lin.

"Nice to see you again, Bo," Yuni said, firmly shaking his hand. Bolin shook her hand half heartedly. "Bolin, we've got a good case. You acted in self-defense against those asses- Jinn WeiYing will testify to that, and you saved the children from The Abdicator. They'll see you as a hero."

"They see me as a killer. I didn't save anybody," he croaked, burying his face in his hands. "Like the Abdicator. Just as bad as him. Maybe worse."

Yuni was unrelentless. "Then we will MAKE them see otherwise, Bolin. You are not a killer. I know you're not."

_If you only knew,_ Bolin thought mournfully.

"Kid." Lin placed a hand on his shoulder, making him look up at her. For a second he thought that she was going to wish him good luck, but then she spoke the two most terrifying words that he'd ever heard. "It's time."

Asami and Korra both kissed him on the cheek, Mako hugged him tightly and Lin and Yuni led Bolin out of the side room as Korra, Asami and Mako took a seat with the rest of the citizens.

The bailiff called for attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Honorable Judge Aiko Fei presiding."

An old man around age fifty, with a nod, made his way behind the judge's podium. "All right. Case number 4475, Superior Court of Republic City, Bolin v. the People of Republic City, along with a separate lawsuit against Mr. Bolin filed by Rai Chouko and Usahi Aichida, is now in session." The mallet clanked loudly against the tabletop, and Bolin flinched. Yuni shot him a quick smile.

"Mr. Chan, you're representing the People, along with Mr. Chouko and Mr. Aichida?" The plaintiff stood up and nodded, leering a horrible smile with cigarette-stained teeth.

"A privilege," he stated with a heavy Fire Nation accent.

"Miss Keiko, you are representing Mr. Bolin?"

"Yes, Your Honor, and we are ready to proceed," responded Yuni.

The judge nodded. Looking down at a sheet of paper, he read off the charges so that the entire court would be able to hear them.

"For the charges of 'Use of An Illegal Form of Bending,' and 'Murder in The First Degree,' how do you plead?" A painstaking amount of grief and horror surged through Bolin's chest as Yuni declared, "Not guilty, Your Honor."

_But he's right!_ Bolin wanted to cry. _I did hurt them...I killed that man. I hurt my brother. I'm a monster_.

"Miss Keiko, your opening statement?" Yuni stood up, her chair squeaking, and walked to the front of the room. "Ladies and gentlemen of the council, my client, Mr. Bolin, has been wrongly and unfairly accused of these crimes," Yuni began with a great amount of confidence and sincerity. Bolin hoped no one could tell how hard he was sweating.

"If you all can remember, after the Harmonic Convergence, several children, including my client, were blessed with interesting powers, such as telekinesis, invisibility, and willing spontaneous combustion." Bolin flinched. _And visions, and seeing ghosts... _he thought bitterly.

"Some of the children were able to control their Powers, others not, my client being one of the latter. Because of that, he lost control of his Power and acted purely in self-defense against the defendants. He had excellent reason to, also, seeing as Mr. Aichida and Mr. Chouko broke into a gas station, attempted to rob it, and led my client to believe that a good friend of his, a Miss Asami Sato, was murdered."

"Ladies and gentlemen of the council," Yuni declared,"The plaintiffs will tell you that Bolin used a form of Illegal Bending, but they are twisting reality."

"Objection, Your Honor. Irrelevant."

"Overruled. Sit down, Mr. Chan."

"In fact," continued Yuni, "he did not bend at all. He used his Power, a Power he has no control over, in self-defense. And if we can recall another case merely a month ago, a case brought to our attention by Avatar Korra herself, the verdict was and remains that Powers are not considered a form of bending. So in reality, the charge of 'Use of An Illegal Form of Bending' should be dismissed."

"He was working with the police!" Chan declared,"He went to the victim Nyla Wen's house because he had a so-called 'vision' of how she died. What's to say he didn't use that as an excuse-"

"Objection, Your Honor! Irrelevant!" Yuni shot back at him with a smile.

"Substained." The Judge said, "Now, sit down, Mr. Chan. _And be quiet_."

Chan grumbled something under his breath, before sitting down in his chair again. He shot a glare at Bolin.

"Yes, my client is guilty of murder. But he acted purely out of self-defense. Already had Mr. Jinn WeiYing been battered and knocked unconscious by the defendants, and then Miss Sato had been brutally taken by the three men, and had appeared to be buried alive. I would've snapped too, if I'd been in Mr. Bolin's shoes. "He feels an innumerable amount of guilt for the fact that he even murdered anyone at all, everyone. He did not want to hurt anyone."

"The claim that this young man, this respected probender, savior of the Abdicator's Chosen Children, is a ruthless, cold blooded murderer, is entirely false, just as all of these claims are. And, today I ask that you listen with open ears to understand that my client is not guilty of any of these crimes." Yuni nodded before sitting back down.

The judge's stony, blue eyes lingered momentarily on Bolin before drifting back to the prosecutor. "Plaintiff, please call your first witness."

"I'd like to call Mr. WeiYing to the stand."

Jinn walked up to the podium and sat down.

"Mr. WeiYing, would you please put your left hand on the Constitution of the United Republic, drafted by Avatar Aang and Firelord Zuko, and raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"Yes."

"You may proceed, Mr. Chan."

"Thank you, Your Honor." The dialogue between the two went fairly well, and Bolin even started to relax at one point-until Chan asked Jinn what happened after he was unconscious.

"I woke up in a hospital." Jin replied

"Were you the only one there?"

"No...Detective Mako was there too."

Chan nodded. "Why was he there?"

"He was admitted for internal injuries and I was told that he remained in a coma for a few days." Bolin began to feel sick.

"And why was this?"

Jinn's eyes shifted. "I don't know."

"Your Honor?"

"Answer the question, Mr. WeiYing."

"Bolin knocked him out during his rage," muttered Jinn. Bolin's stomach shot down to his shoes.

"No more questions, Your Honor."

"Miss Keiko?"

"No further questions, Your Honor," Yuni reluctantly said.

"Next witness."

And so it went on. Chan called up a nurse from the hospital, who testified that the Hulk had died slowly and painfully from Bolin's rage. His brain stem had been slowly crushed. Bolin fought to keep his poker face on, like Yuni had said, but knew he couldn't hold on much longer without going insane. Then Mako, then Korra, then Asami, which took nearly twenty minutes from both attorneys, and then finally, it was Yuni's turn, and she called up Aichida.

"Mr. Aichida, why did you and your friends go to the WeiYing's gas station?"

"To get _gas_," sneered Aichida. "Why else?"

"Is that all?" Yuni inquired sweetly. "Because according to Haru WeiYing, the four of you—you, Rai, Jonno, and the late Mr. Wren—owe him and Jinn over five hundred yuans and regularly harass them."

A hot blush rose in Chan's cheeks. "Objection! Miss Keiko is badgering my client."

"Accepted. Miss Keiko?"

"Sorry, Judge. Continuing on."she turned back to Aichida,"You held Miss Sato captive, is that correct?" said Yuni.

"Yes," muttered Aichida. "But—"

"And you also attempted to bury her alive, correct?" Yuni pressed on.

"Y-yes." The man fidgeted in his seat.

"Then you understand why my client acted in such a way, right?"

"He KILLED Wren!" shouted Mr. Aichida. "Why does no one seem to get that? He killed my friend! With his MIND! If that's not wrong and creepy, I don't know what is! He's a murderer!"

"Order in my court room," barked the Judge.

"You provoked him, though, Usahi, you know you did," Yuni badgered. "Wren would be alive if Bolin hadn't been provoked—"

"Your Honor!"

"Miss Keiko!"

"Do you admit this!?" Yuni yelled, getting in close to Aichida. "Do you admit that you provoked Bolin's Power out of him, that Bolin didn't act on his own accord?"

"Miss Keiko!" The Judge slammed his mallet down, but to no avail.

"Yes, damnit," said Aichida bitterly. "I admit it."

"No further questions, Your Honor," said Yuni, walking back over to Bolin and sitting down. Chan shot her a death glare, and Yuni smiled at him. Bolin could've kissed her.

"There will be a short recess while the council reconvenes and decides their opinion," announced the Judge, and immediately the courtroom burst into an uproar of noise. Bolin, Yuni and the Krew ran back to the side room, along with Lin, and made dry, small talk for nearly half an hour while Bolin sweat through his shirt and took small bites of lukewarm dumplings.

An hour later, they were all called back in. The judge turned to the council, and Bolin was fidgeting so badly that it was a miracle no one noticed. "Has the council reached a decision?" he asked, like it didn't matter one way or another.

"Yes, we have, Your Honor," said a councilwoman from the Earth Kingdom. "After careful deliberation, we, the Council of the United Republic, hereby find Mr. Bolin _not_ guilty of the charges of 'Illegal use of Bending' and 'Murder in the First Degree.'"

Bolin swore the room nearly spun.

"Case closed."

The mallet rammed against the tabletop, and the courtroom exploded.

"Child Killer!"

"How can he be let go..."

"Murderer!"

"Killed Wren..."

"You're dead," shouted Aichida. "Dead, Bolin! We're coming for you! You'll pay for killing Wren! You'll pay for this!" Bolin tried desperately not to scream bloody murder and let himself be led away by Lin, Mako, Asami, Korra and Yuni, praying that perhaps the danger was finally over and maybe now people would stop thinking about him as a cold blooded killer and a freak.

If only he were so naïve.


	3. Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Coffee was a new habit to Bolin, and for most of his life, was a luxury that he couldn't afford. During his short-lived rise to stardom, however, his tight hours had been salvaged by gulping down the bitter stuff with about as much sugar as he could manage. (Just because he was half Fire Nation, _did not_ mean he rose with the sun)

And with his new abilities, he found himself doing anything to put the horrors at bay. Try as he might, he was doing everything in his will power not to go back to smoking- because that would mean letting _them_ win, and also because he really couldn't stand the disappointment and pity in Mako's eyes with having to go another day inhaling three of those things just to get by.

_Liquor,_ however, was another story.

This was because, the coffee was counter effective. He'd become so tired from trying to push the ghosts and visions away, which in turn made them more angry and the head aches worse. The head aches made him want to lie down in bed, but sleeping was the worst part. His sleeping mind had no say in what it saw, what horrors plagued it. It was like an open door for the Abdicator to get to and manipulate-and the Spirits knew he'd always been a sleepwalker.

He'd drink coffee to stay awake and be hipped up in a freak-free high; lifting weights or bathing Pabu to pass the time. Somewhere in those late hours of the night, the effects would wear off-and _of course_ he couldn't afford a coffee maker, and _of course _no one gave a crap if you walk into their dinner at one in the morning and want coffee, because coffee was for five through ten a.m. _didn't your parents teach you anything? You want to buy something, kid, buy a meal 'cause we ain't selling damn coffee at this hour._

Bolin gripped the dingy bar table with white knuckles and gave the man the sweetest smile he could muster.

"Well, then," his fingers twitched, he peeked through the hood covering the better part of his face , "How 'bout a Tequila?"

A fat guy listening to the radio on the stool to the left whistled at his request and gave a pitiful chuckle. Bolin glared at him. He flinched, took a swig of his drink, and turned back to the radio.

The barkeeper rose a hairy brow. "How old are ya, kid?"

"Old enough to know there's about two other bars on this block that'll give me better service for half the price."

Which wasn't exactly true, however, this one was the closest to his apartment, and he'd been forced to learn all the exits at an early age. The Triple Threats had taken Mako and him here when they were about eleven and thirteen, as a sort of celebration after a turf war victory. He'd had his fist drink here, given to him by Viper when Mako had to leave early on a number run- a 'Stormy Dragon'.

(There'd been a lot of sugar in it, and he'd thrown it up later, but still)

Now, Bolin meticulously waved out a few yuans while making to leave, making sure the bills caught the barkeep's eye.

"Err-wait!"

Bolin smiled wanly; _like giving candy to a baby_. He twisted his neck around. "Hmm?"

"I, um," the man cleared his throat, and flicked his apron off the hook, "I don't suppose it's too late for a Tequila."

Bolin lips pulled up, "Better make it a double, boss," he pushed the bills across the table. "My friends ain't very nice to me when I'm sober."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked. The glasses clanked together on the bar. A group of men cheered at the other end, hearing something announced in what sounded like Shiro Shonabi's voice. "And why's that, kid?" He poured in the ice, mixed the two beverages together, and shook it. When ready, it was promptly slid across the smooth surface into Bolin's waiting hands.

"Probably because I got them all killed." Bolin said, a bit too nonchalantly, and took a big swig, and smacked his lips.

The barkeep froze, mouth hanging open in stupefaction. The amber in them got really big, and for a moment he just looked at the earthbender. Bolin bit off the cherry on the top of the glass, and spit out the stem.

The man began to laugh nervously, and Bolin joined in. The laughter rose higher and breathy. Bolin laughed louder, banging his fist on the table like it was the funniest thing in the world. Other men and women in the bar turned to look at them, shrugged, then turned back.

Bolin coughed twice, then cleared his throat.

"You got a ciggy?" he croaked.

"A what?"

"A cigarette, man. Do you have a damn cigarette?"

The barkeep shook his head. "I aint a smoker." He whipped his head with a cloth. "You shouldn't- bad habit." He bent under the table and retrieved a bag of frozen vegetables.

Bolin eyed him. "Says the man behind the bar with the liquor license."

"Touché, kid."

Bolin drained his glass. An instant grimace spread across his face.

"Better hit me again, boss." he slapped his hand on the table. "They're watchin' me everywhere tonight. S'gonna be a long one."

* * *

After that barkeep went home around two in the morning, another one came in for the next shift. By that time Bolin had had another- or five- more drinks, and decided he was drunk enough to go back to his empty apartment with the last of his pride.

The pay phone was cold and metallic as it burned into the symbols on his hands, and his fuzzy brain fought to remember the number correctly. He got it right on the third try.

"Hello?"

He froze. As he was struggling to rub two alcohol-impaired neurons together, the voice stoke up again. "Look, whoever this is, I can hear you breathing. So if this is some kind of joke-"

"Asami."

She went silent for a moment. Probably due to the fact that he'd been avoiding all of them, and hadn't spoken to her since that horrible day at the gas station three weeks ago when she'd been nearly buried alive.

And in turn he'd lost control of his power and killed one of the guys and put Mako in a coma. Actually, if he was being technical, he had last seen her at his trial three days ago, but had tried to avoid everyone's gaze at that point. So he guessed that he was the last person she wanted to hear from right now.

That, and being that it was sometime after two in the morning.

_Shit._

"H-hello?" he cleared his throat. "S'me."

"_Bo? _Is-is that you?" her voice got high, "Are you alright?"

"Yesh. Yesh. Nhooo." his lips got all slurry again.

"Are you _drunk?"_

_" _Kinda."

A sigh. She replied instantly, "Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

He knew the bar was in walking distance from his house, but left was looking sorta like right at the moment, and_ fuck_ he really just needed to talk to one of his friends. If they still considered him a friend.

"...Bo?"

He blinked and shook his head. "The phone boof outsida Bagermole Taverrrrn."

"Right. Okay. Wow. Bolin, that's four boroughs from your place. The trolleys don't run through there this late. How'd you get over there?"

"'s not far. 's right across the street, miss." He stated.

She sighed. "Right. Bolin, just stay put. Wait inside; I'll be right over."

"'kay. And-'sami?"

"Yeah, Bolin?"

"'re we still friends?"

"Bo...I-you...Of _course_ we're still friends..."

He leaned heavily on the wall of the phone booth. "Ghood, 'cause I like friends that' re alive bettah."

He heard her swallow thickly.

"...'sami? You still therrrre?"

"Yeah, Bo. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, don't you worry."

* * *

"You really had _seven_ Tequila's?" was her question, an hour later once they had reached his apartment, and she was fumbling with his lock.

Bolin smirked despite himself. "Whelp , my or-" he hiccupped,"orighinalll ghoal was,",hiccup," was _eleven,_ but the new bartender was pissy, and kicked me out when I broke the stoohl- so yepppppp..."

Asami just shook her head, and he allowed her to drag him into his place. Bolin plopped down heavily on the couch, with a groan. She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, seemingly lost in thought. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Bolin watched as she went into his pantry, and poured him a glass of water.

She put the cup on the table next to him, clarifying him after he eyed it questioningly. "You need to hydrate. You're gonna have a hell of a headache in the morning."

He snorted and rolled over, placing the pillow on his face. "Nothing I ain't used to, darlin'."

With that said, the silence lingered once more.

"Bo," she finally said despite her better judgment. Having an intervention while drunk sounded counter-productive in the least, and not bound to be very motivational. But she was here, Asami thought, she had Bolin here by herself. She might as well address the elephant-goat in the room while there was still a room at all.

"Hmm?" he lifted the pillow up an inch, showing one of his eyes( his very tired-looking, and slightly bloodshot) eyes.

Asami leaned against the counter and blew a puff of air out of her lips, with a pop. "How are you? I mean, how are you doing, handling all of this?" She winced at her words.

Bolin lay still for a moment, just staring at the pillow he was holding above his face, with thin lips as if it was the reason for all his pain lately. Then he tossed it across the room where it landed on the floor by Pabu with a thud.

"I'm doing fine," was the response that left his lips, but even Pabu could tell that the words held no life.

"Bolin..."

She stepped closer, and attempted to place a hand on his shoulder, but he rolled back over and faced the wall.

"Really, Asami. I am. Don't worry about me."

_"Really."_

"Yes, _really."_

"Well," she replied with a set face, "that's a pretty sure answer for someone I had to pick up at two in the morning after an attempted eleven tequila's. And after I had to calm you down when you started talking to someone named Ta Gee, telling to him _'shut up'_ that it _'wasn't your_ _fault'_ and then proceeded to jump out of the car once we stopped at the light." Bolin flinched. Asami could see the muscles in his neck tighten.

"Wanna tell me what that was about?" she said, a bit forcefully, but not without sympathy.

Bolin's face scrunched up real tight, and he made a noise that did not sound very pleasant.

"Bo?" she said. "What's-

"'m fine," he pushed away the hands that tried to comfort him. His words came out like a choke. "I think-you should go- now. It's," he swallowed, and brought his firsts up to his ears, "G-getting late."

"No, you need help. Just tell me what's-"

_"I'm-fine. Asami." _he said through gritted teeth. He stumbled up off the couch, and passed her. He went into the bathroom and leaned against the shower door, holding his head, while taking uneven gasping breaths that made him sound like he was having an asthma attack.

"Fine?" she exclaimed, following right after him, "'Fine' doesn't mean you keep mumbling to your ghosts and-"

"-They're not _my_ ghosts!-" he snapped.

"-yourself the whole car ride home saying _'I'm not Number Twelve, I'm not Number Twelve, I'm not Number Twelve!'_!" Bolin glared at her, cursing under his breath.

"'Fine' doesn't mean you jump out of my car," she got right in his face now, eyes burning,"and start running down the street saying that 'you have to stop him'!" she exclaimed.

"Shut up, Asami."

"-_But of course you don't remember that!"_

Bolin actually shoved her away. She stumbled a bit, before her elbow jammed into the sink.

"What the hell-"

"Fuck!" he yelled, "Shit, Asami, what the hell to you want from me?!" His pupils had turned to slits and his temple was now damp with sweat. "What the fuck do you-"

"-I want you to talk to me, damn it!" she yelled back, and Bolin blinked at her. "To any of us! Instead of avoiding us like you'd been for the passed three weeks, hiding in your apartment with this-this 'I'm fine' _bullshit_!"

"What do want me to say? That it's not fucking hard? That it's 'getting better with time'? Cause it's getting fucking worse! And the whole city sees me as a murderer and a freak." he retorted. "How about this; I don't feel like a _total piece of shit_, and I didn't try to kill myself last night with a knife that is not in this top drawer!" he gruffly tugged open the drawer to show the shiny razer-tipped knife nuzzled next to a pill bottle.

Asami was looking at him with a pitiful expression, not knowing if she should go touch him, or just let him rant.

"So you can yell at me all you want." he muttered, "It's not gonna change anything. I don't care anymore, Asami, okay?"

That last statement fueled her resolve. She was across the small bathroom, and putting her hands on his cheeks. _"I_ care, Bo." she said forcefully, looking him right in the eyes, "_We all care."_ He scoffed, and she shook him until he met her gaze once more. "Hey. _Look at me_. Don't fucking shut us out like this. _Please. _At least care enough about us."

Bolin turned away from her, his fists rock-tight at his sides. He rubbed his eyes, and gave a sigh that was so weary, Asami could practically see his energy draining with it.

After a moment of putting herself back together, she spoke up once more.

"Do you know how heartbroken Korra is?" Asami asked. He looked at her again.

"Korra?" He shook his head. "No. She had no reason to-"

"-Well she does, you idiot! She's the Avatar; she blames this whole Spirit mess on herself! She says you hate her now because she called you a horrible name-"

"-Monster."

"...What?" Asami looked at him.

Bolin erupted. "She called me a fucking _monster_, alright!?" Asami's mouth dropped open. Bolin's shoulders sagged, all the anger out of him. He braced his grip on the door handle. The symbols left a parallel marking on the door; singing, then dimming down. "She called me a monster." he whispered. "You were unconscious, the basterd was dead, everyone else was out." he swallowed thickly. "Mako had called out to me-_I heard him call my name-_ but I just...I just couldn't fucking stop, Asami-"

"Bolin..."

"Mako was trying to snap me out of it; he was the only one who didn't look afraid. Korra looked horrified." his eyes shut tight again, and his mouth kept twitching like he was forcing himself to stay together. "I made Mako go down, and- he screamed so loud, it looked so painful. There was _blood_ coming out of his ears and eyes, Asami. I did that." He finally met her gaze, and saw to his astonishment that she was crying.

"I think that's what got me to stop; Mako in pain, even though it was my fault. On some subconscious level, it snapped me out of it. But-apparently that means nothing to our dear Avatar." he sneered,"She looked like she would've burnt my face off at that point."

"She didn't mean it, Bolin. She wasn't thinking-"

"-Of course she was. She wouldn't have said it if she didn't mean it." He slid down the wall until he was on the floor.

"People say and do things that they don't mean when they're upset, Bolin." She was sitting next to him now, and either he didn't have the energy to push her away, or he just didn't care now.

"I thought you were dead." he tells her.

A lump forms in her throat. "I know. I thought I was, too." It isn't a new feeling to her, this blame that this was all her fault. That that whole horrible day could have been avoided if she hadn't been so careless. It had been _her car_ that had gotten stuck, _her_ big mouth and ego that had egged the thugs on.

_Her_ life in danger that had fueled Bolin.

And sometimes in the dead of night, it keeps her awake knowing that she was important enough to someone- _to Bolin-_ to let his power out. The practical part of her says that he'd do the same for the others, but the other part can't help but notice-_more and more recently_- how green his eyes are. The sweetness in his smile, the joy in his laugh. How strong and amiable his hands are when helping her up after a fall. She remembers how on bad days during her failing business, he'd take her out to lunch, or she'd come back from a stressful meeting, and her favorite dish would be left waiting on her desk, a silly little note scribbled in the corner by him.

He had saved her life twice already, but she can't help but think that maybe he is really saving her heart, as she lets her knee touch his as they sit on the cold bathroom floor-and this sudden warmth rushing up her body. If she could tangle her fingers in his hair, and feel his lips for one moment, she may just be the happiest-girl-in-the-world-

"Asami...?" But no, he's looking at her, and she can't tell what she sees. Not her, she knows. He's trapped by something else. How could he ever possible see her, even when she's sitting _right __here_-

"You need to go talk to her. And Mako." These are the words that come out of her mouth in the end. Because somehow, this boy who had been her boyfriend's brother a year ago, has been creating so many feelings in her, but-

_"Mako?" _He whispered.

"Your brother's been absolutely miserable without you, you know. He blames himself. He keeps coming by here, but you won't let him in."

He uncurled his firsts, looking at his tattooed palms with venom.

"I nearly killed him," were the words in a low, husky voice, "I'm not his brother anymore."

"You didn't mean to hurt anyone, Bolin. Mako knows that."

"Maybe I did, maybe not."

Asami's eyes crinkled. "What do you mean?" She was sure she wasn't going to like this next answer.

"It's like," he looked at his palms intently, as if he would burn away their markings if he tried hard enough. "When I'm like that, I remember all of it. But the worst part is, is that I have no feelings when it happens- no feelings except rage and power and-" he took a deep breath.

"'sami?" he whispered, so quietly she could barely hear him.

"What is it?" she asked quietly. "I'm here."

"Do you wanna know what the worst part of it all is?"

She turned to look at him. "Not that those kids all died because of me; not that every time I have a vision I have to see people die and _be_ people who die. Not even that the city hates me, and I know that it's my fault, or even that I'm seeing the bastard again and feeling like I'm loosing my fucking mind." he took a deep breath.

"Then...what's the worst part?"

_"That I like it."_

Her eyes widened.

"I like the feeling when I lose absolute control, and don't give a fuck anymore. When I reach the point where I could kill them and laugh at their screams while doing it, and making them helpless feels like the best thing in the world. If no one was there to stop me," he whispered, "I don't think I would've even wanted to stop. But that makes me feel more sick than anything, Asami, it really does." His voice cracked.

The tears were now streaming down his blotchy face unforgivingly. "It makes me sick because, in the end, I think he might have been _right_. The Abdicator said that I'd eventually learn to accept it, and love it. That I'd like doing that to people, or fucking ghosts if I even tried-and you know what?"

Asami shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes.

_"He was right, Asami_. He was fucking right." his body shook as she pulled him into her arms, "And I'm scared sick that one of these days, nothing's gonna bring me back, and it's gonna be you, or Mako, or Korra laying on the ground under me instead."

_"Oh, Bolin..."_

And they don't know how long the two of them stay like that, curled up on the cold tiles of his bathroom, crying their eyes out. An hour later, Bolin won't stir as Asami carries him to his bed and tucks him in. He won't even flinch as she kisses him on the forehead and says a quiet prayer for him, looking at him for a few minutes, wishing she could do more for him, (have more of her to offer to him.) He won't hear her heart shatter as she turns off the light and closes the door, even when her cars rolls away just as the sun comes up.

* * *

Bolin had never resented sunlight as much as he did in that moment, as its rays of torture shone on his face. Somehow, he had gotten into his bed from the bathroom last night, and Bolin was positively certain that if he did not return to that room of the bath, his bed was going to be covered in puke in the next twenty seconds.

Or maybe he could just drown in his vomit. Yes, that was a very depressing thought indeed. But one that was increasing in option every time he tried to move, because the sledgehammer in his head was chopping his brain into atom-sized pieces.

Bolin cursed, and flew the blankets off with the grace of a hog-monkey. He thought memory was supposed to suck during a hangover, but he remembered with clarity the events of last night-and for that he was internally grateful.

Asami had gone above and beyond for him, despite monster he was, and without her, he'd surely be locked in a jail cell this very moment.

His gut twisted, and he scrambled to the floor, crawling on his hands and knees to the bathroom. He had a flash of his younger self on the street, sitting in the alleys watching the druggies stuff their fingers down their throats as needles stuck half-way out of their arms, and their guts (or what was left of them) spilled on the ground. It'd been some sort of test, to see who could stuff enough in their bloodstream and get the most high, while keeping what was considered the 'Brotherhood Cocktail' down. Bolin had been offered to try it more than once, but always refused. _It turns you into vegetables_, Mako had always said. When he asked what his brother meant by that (because where were these vegetables? He was damn hungry and wanted some vegetables) Mako had always just shaken his head and said not to worry about it.

Now, as he reached for the doorknob, he felt it:

His eyes rolled back, and his memories shifted as the room went out of focus.

_He was an Earth Kingdom girl, a few years younger, and his limbs were strapped to a table._

_The girl was kicking and screaming, trying in vain to get away. Men in masks were standing around her/him, and testing out their equipment._

_"Subject Eighteen is ready for testing, doctor," one said as he held a huge needle in his hand._

_"Very good, Citkah. You may proceed with the operation." The man called Citkah nodded, and the straps were pulled tighter. _

_The girl screamed again, "No! Stop, please! Leave me alone, I didn't do everything wrong!"_

_"Ohh, dear child, do not wear yourself out yet. This is just the beginning." the man stood over her._

_"N-no! Stop!"_

_"Do not fear, child. Your Surrogates will protect you." Then he probed the needle into her eyeball, and her back arched. _

To say that Bolin was used to having visions now, was an understatement, because he still screamed like hell. The room came back into view, with him seizing against the wall, and when he wiped his hand against his eye, red came back on his fingers.

His stomach heaved again, and his mouth obeyed as it all surged out on the floor. Nowhere near the toilet.

"Fuck!" he screamed, trying to sit up. His left eye burned like a bitch, and he was having trouble seeing out of it.

After puking once more, he managed to crawl to the couch, and plop his body down. He rested his head on his arms, and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. The room had already started smelling horrible. "Fuck my life..."

He actually managed to go back to sleep for a few minutes- before an annoying knocking on the door woke him up.

"You have a visitor..." The Abdicator appeared above him as he opened his eyes. He yelped and fell for the floor. "Bloody hell-!" The Abdicator smiled a crooked grin, to which Bolin through a dish at him.

Of course, it went right through him, and hit the wall.

The knocking continued louder.

_"Come on!" _Bolin yelled, throwing up his hands, "Can't a guy have a hangover, in peace?! Is that too much to ask?!"

The knocking continued.

"Alright, cominggggggg..."

Before he opened the door, he prayed it wasn't his brother. Because if it was-

"Hello..."

In the threshold, stood a bony-looking kid, who had to be about fifteen or so. He definitely looked Fire Nation, with his piercing ember eyes, and red clothes.

"Bolin!" The boy exclaimed. He blinked after a moment, probably due to his less-than-nice looking (and smelling) appearance.

"Um, hi...?" Bolin tried to think back to if this boy was a street kid he'd seen around, because he apparently knew him. But no- he definitely wasn't from the streets; too rich and innocent looking. Bolin could call a street kid from a mile off. He had not one speak of dirt in him. All though his hair was quite messy, and his glasses were cracked- and Bolin's eye still burned. "Do I, uh," Bolin scratched his head. "Do I know you?"

The boy shook his head. "Not yet. My name is Chan," he said. "I'm like you."

"...Like me?" Bolin blinked. This was too much for one morning. Bolin just wanted to curl up and die, not babysit. Maybe if he puked on him, he'd go away..."Look, kid. If you're trying to sell something, I ain't buying, so..." he tried to close the door, but the boy- Chan- caught it with his foot and wrenched it open.

"Wait! Please!" he begged, "I am like you. I have powers, too, look!" Bolin watched as the boy turned completely tangable-like, he could see the other wall _through_ him, and in the next second, he was sinking through the floor...

Bolin was still blinking in a dumfounded shock when he heard the voice from below. "See?"

Only the boy's head was sticking through the floor. Bolin shivered, though he had to admit it was pretty cool.

"I, um, yep," Bolin cleared his throat, "That's something all right. Um-what did you say your name was again?"

The boy came back up, and turned back to normal. "Chan," he said solemnly, "And I need your help. The Surrogates are after us."


	4. Rising Son

'As it is written in the Book of Change:

' _There will come a time of great Spiritual Enlightenment. The Avatar of the New Time shall combine the worlds, and from the ashes the monster will rise for all to judge. The Chosen shall flee until the time is right to defeat the one who is Judged, and there shall be a great battle. But it will not stop there, he told them. The Spirits and humans shall be at odds with each other like never before. Many will be Chosen and blessed with Power, but the Master shall save them all and be the leader of his people throughout his life times, and put in end to the evildoers. Alas, there will be signs, he told them, many will be lost, and misfortune will reign. Look for the signs, and take heed. As it shall come to pass with the New Age.'_

_Page 127: Part 3, section 5_

* * *

"So, the Surrogates?" Bolin asks as Chan plops down on the couch. "Who exactly are these guys?" Bolin guesses it has something to do with his vision, and if he's correct in this assumption, then _'not good'_ would be a total understatement.

He watches as the kid kicks his feet up nonchalantly on the coffee table like he owns it, and crosses his arms over his chest. Bolin has half a mind to smack his feet off, with a scolding, (like Mako would have done) but they have way more important issues at hand, and he's just too damn tired to care.

Instead of answering, Chan sniffs the air with a pinched expression. His gaze points towered the hall. "Your place reeks, dude. Even heard of air freshener?"

_And you're a blunt little punk, aren't you?_ Yes, he's aware his apartment smells like crap now, and he's going to have to scrub it all out of the damn carpet-it's not making his mood any better, thank you very much.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry about that." he grimaces, "And I have, but-"

"But, what?" Chan hops off the couch, and makes a beeline for the fridge. Bolin twitches as the contents of his refrigerator get delicately placed into the kid's still-talking mouth. "You took a shit on your rug? You Earthbenders really like to keep it all-natural, don't yeah?"

_"Okay."_ If Bolin could breathe fire, it would have taken off Chan's hand in mid-dumpling swipe. "First off all-_my_ place,_ my_ food." He slams the door shut, and not-so-delicately pushes Chan into a chair. "Unless you ask nicely, which you did not." Chan swallows his last bite and looks down. To his credit, quite shamefully.

"Sorry..." he mutters, "I haven't eaten in a while. I get rude when I'm scared- it's something I'm working on."

Bolin whips a hand across his face. "Anyway...Why don't you explain to me more about the Surrogates, and what you think they want your friend Mie for. You said there was a bunch of you guys who have Powers that are still out there."

"Yeah...a bunch of us banded together to form a group- the ones who survived, anyway. Ta Gee was like a brother to me. We did everything together." Chan gave a weary sigh. "He wanted a good name for our group; something strong, he said, that would stick. He called us the _'New Freedom Fighters'._ You know, those stories about during the war, how the Earth Kingdom kids made a group against the Fire Nation? They helped the old Avatar?" Bolin shook his head. He had no idea. Education on the street was very limited.

"Anyway, that's what he wanted us to be like, to make a difference; Ta Gee thought we stood a chance..." Chan put his head on the table. An mournful silence filled the air. Bolin thought about telling Chan that he'd seen Ta Gee, but didn't know if it would do more harm than good.

"What about your parents?" Bolin asks gently. "Didn't they try to help you at all?" He took a seat by the younger boy and gave him an encouraging look.

Chan grimaced. "After I got my powers over a month ago, my parents pretended it never happened." He scoffed, "The 'great lawyer Mr. Chan' and his wife couldn't possibly have anything wrong with their son. Oh, no, nothing at all. Everything is just fine... But it wasn't. Especially after the bastard started his killing spree- school was closed for a month, and I was on the fucking List. But did that make my parents notice me? Please, they probably haven't realized I'm gone." He was fading through the chair now, unconsciously. His form transparent, and giving the chair an odd texture.

"Um, Chan?" Bolin pointed. Chan gasped and rolled over onto the floor, to which he returned to normal.

"Sorry..."

"'s fine." Bolin muttered. "I've done way worse, trust me."

Chan dusted himself off and sat back down again. The younger boy nodded. Nothing needed to be commented on that. The whole City knew of Bolin's defeat against the Abdicator, and the Trial against the 'Child Killer' that took place at City Hall three weeks ago. People were still having riots, and it was all Bolin could do to leave his apartment. The characters for 'Number Twelve' had been painted throughout the city on buildings and posters. Needless to say, everyone knew.

"The Surrogates think we're their little pets." Chan spat, his fists clenched on the table. "We sent a couple of guys to go spy on them a couple of weeks ago, to steal some of their equipment."

"And?"

Chan's eyes hardened under the rim of his glasses. "Bad stuff, man. Straightjackets, and needles and these-these pod things that they're keeping the kids in. They strap you down and pull out your insides for tests. That what Nuan told us after he escaped there; he's the only one who has." A noticeable shiver went through the younger boy. "It's my fault I couldn't save my friends. Ta Gee and Kuzon are long dead, but Mie's being tortured like a lab rat by those monsters. I barely escaped when they came after us."

Bolin's jaw clenched. Wasn't it bad enough that all those kids had to die? Now this? Is this really what the world had turned into?

"No more." His words came out gruff. Chan looked up at him. "No one else is going to die."

"Well, what you think we should do?" Chan's question made a lump rise in his throat. Here this boy was, asking him for his help, when he was the one who had gotten everyone into this mess. When, with just a thought, he could kill him in second. Or maybe, slowly, and painfully, if he wasn't so lucky. Chan's ember eyes stared at him with innocence, and the color was so similar to Mako's that he had to look away.

"Bolin?"

Chan's voice brought him back. "Why are you asking me? I'm no leader."

"You may not think so, but you're all we've got." Surprisingly, Chan's voice was strong and clear, and it made Bolin look back at him. "Those monsters have taken five of my friends so far, and the girl I love. We have to break them out of there."

Bolin's hands started burning suddenly. He had to fist them and clench his teeth. "Easier said then done." He breathed through his nose and closed his eyes.

_-No, please stop!-_

"Bolin? Dude?"

_-Dear child, do not struggle.-_

_-Place the Subjects in the pods-_

_-Gahhhhh!-_

"Bolin?"

His eyes snapped open, and Chan was staring right at him.

"Dude, you okay?"

"Y-yeah-" He rubbed his temples, and shook his head. "Just give me a minute." He took a deep inhale.

"What's wrong with your hands? They looked freaky."

_"Nothing. Shut up." _The words came out harsher than he meant to, and a huge crash was heard across the room. He heard Chan jump. When he opened his eyes, his coffee table was in a million pieces.

_Shit._ Not again.

"So a break in?" Bolin ignored Chan's fearful look. Agni, his head _hurt. _"How's this gonna go down?"

Chan blinked at him, then quickly composed himself. "We'll...we were hoping you'd tell us, actually."

Bolin froze. "Huh?"

"Well, you _are_ the oldest. And you took down the Abdicator all by yourself. You're the most powerful out of all of us." He explained.

Bolin shook his head subconsciously. _No, I'm not,_ he thought, bitterly, _and I had help._

"Like it or not, Bolin, you're our leader." Chan looked straight at him. Bolin realized it was the longest he'd held anyone's gaze in weeks. "We need you."

Bolin bit his lip and looked away. He slid his chair out and walked to the window.

He'd thought it was all over. He killed the monster, and then things would go back to normal. _He'd_ go a back to normal. Hadn't that been what going to the Earth Kingdom had been for? To celebrate? Bolin fisted his hands to tight, his fingernails making his palms draw blood.

_Ahhh-AHHHH! P-please...Stop!_

_Snap out of it, Bolin! Come on!_

_Bolin!_

"I'm a monster." He told his reflection in the window. "Not a leader." It had been the first time he'd seen himself in weeks. He was all matted hair, and bloodshot eyes. He looked like a living hell. "I'll just hurt someone."

A horrible silence followed after that. Bolin felt something gross in his throat. He almost wished Chan would just agree with him. Silence could be almost a painful as words.

He heard a chair scraping back, and the patter of footsteps. A hand was on his shoulder. He was too stiff to brush it off.

"Look. I don't know what happened back there at the monster's hideout, or the gas station." Chan's words were soft, yet strong. Words that definitely didn't sound normal coming from a fifteen year old. "But I do know that this damn City is wrong about you._ I_ was initially wrong about you." Bolin flinched. "You're as good as they get, Bolin. You're the best of us."

Bolin gaped. He had to look at the kid now, to see it in his eyes if he believe it were true. Bolin was the first to admit he sucked at reading people- but those eyes...he knew the kid really meant it.

Bolin swallowed thickly. He whipped his face and realized his eyes were wet. Damn it, when did he start crying?

"_Okay."_ It came out a whisper.

"...Okay? Really, you'll help us?"

Bolin nodded. "Just give me a day to come up with something." he told Chan, "I'll meet up with you guys Wednesday morning at the hideout and we can talk."

"Deal." Chan shook his hand. "Actually..." Chan reached inside his pocket. "I brought you some things. Some objects from Mie and some tools from the Surrogates to see you could, you know, pick up anything from them?"

Bolin nodded and took the objects. "I'll try my best."

As Chan started walking toward the door, he stopped him.

"Chan, wait." he said, "We can't let anyone know about our plan, okay? Not the police, or Avatar Korra. No one, got it?"

Chan scoffed. "Who would help us? We're just freaks to them."

Bolin bristled at that. It was sad, but it was the truth.

"See ya in two days, Leader." He gave a lazy salute. Bolin watched solemnly as he faded through the door, and was gone.

He walked over to his chair and sat down with the grace of an old man. Everything hurt and he was exhausted, and he put his head in his hands. Through the gaps in his fingers, he saw a bristle of red fluff. It sniffed him and gave a little chirp.

"Oh, Pabu..." He whispered, "What am I gonna do?"

* * *

Hours later, it's three knocks on the door that break Bolin from his train of thought. In hindsight, the little break might have been a good thing, considering his thoughts were getting increasingly negative as they trailed on.

He'd been trying to sense any clues from the objects Chan had given him. Mie's necklace; one of the Surrogate's needles. He'd held them in his hands, closed his eyes. He'd put them on the table and tried-anything. But all that he had gotten was basically the same as his vision this morning; nothing but dim light and straps and screaming. he thought he'd at least get a better look at the place. The thing about visions is they never come when he wanted, and Bolin was too spent to really try anymore for the time being.

At the knock on the door, he lifted his head off the dining room table and scooted his chair out. Thinking about a certain eleven children was not going to help him at all.

"Bolin?" A voice said from the other side. "It's me, Mako."

"Mako…" Bolin silently said to himself. He froze. The feeling of guilt began rising once more in his stressed and mentally hurt head. His guilt seemed to peak whenever his brother tried to come to his apartment, and he just couldn't bear to see him.

No matter how many times Bolin refused to answer the door; he always kept coming back the next day, bringing the unwelcome reminder of how he almost ended his brother's life.

"Bro…" Mako said in a lower pitch. "I know you're in there. Can you please let me in?" Bolin looked out his nearby window, hoping his brother would just give up like he had all of those other times. The afternoon sun was peaking its way through the clouds and giving off a false vibe of a good day to come. Unfortunately, Bolin knew that his brother would be back every single day until he finally answered the door.

It's silent for a long while outside of the door of the apartment. All Bolin can hear is the faint breeze against his window pane and…a small clicking sound? The earthbender inquisitively looked at the door, with a cocked head to try and see if he could identify the sound. With a sigh, he got up and went to investigate the noise. It was definitely coming from the door alright; more specifically, the lock. It was the smallest amount, just barely enough to be noticed and generating a small clicking sound. Bolin went inches away from the door and watched the lock with narrowed eyes.

The lock suddenly stopped moving, and the door handle was then futility turned. But the door refused to open still. Bolin heard his brother mutter a few curses before the lock started turning and clicking again.

"Come on, damn it."

The thought finally dawned on him. Was Mako that desperate to talk to him? He was trying to break into his apartment while the person he wanted to see was only a few feet away? With a sigh, the earthbender undid the lock and opened the door. Before he could even think, a heavy object fell on him from the other side of the threshold. He was lucky that he was able to catch his brother before they both fell to the ground.

"Bolin!" Mako yelled as he regained his footing and balanced on one leg. "I-I, um," he cleared his throat, a blush creeping up his cheeks," I just wanted to come by and see how you were..."

Bolin stared blankly at his brother. "By trying to break into my apartment?" He said monotonously.

Mako rubbed the back of his head and chuckled nervously. "I guess my lock-picking skills are a little rusty."

Bolin rolled his eyes. "How did you fall on me anyway?"

Mako pointed at the door as he turned and hopped outside. He bent over and picked up his crutch from the side of the wall. "I was leaning my head against the door for balance so I could use both of my hands to try and get in." Bolin stared at the crutch as his brother rambled about something that didn't really matter. He didn't need any reminders on how he almost killed his only surviving family member in a fit of pure rage. Rage he couldn't control.

But the crutch kept making that clanking sound, and his brother's leg just didn't look quite right, and he was _so mad_. So mad at himself for what he had done-

-_Kil-na-gi-poh!-_

_-AHHHHH!-_

_-MAKO!-_

_-Monster!-_

"Bolin?" Mako's voice brought him back to reality, again. His attention jumped back to his brother in record speed, but as soon as he saw his face, he had to look away. Every time he looked at his brother, he could only see the face that screamed out when he lost control back at the gas station.

Mako looked at him questioningly, and pointed towards the nearby couch with his free hand. "Come on, Bo, let's sit down." Bolin sulked slowly over to the couch and flopped himself down. Mako leaned his crutch against the cushion and lowered himself down, careful not to lose his balance. He made no comment about the horrid smell, or the destroyed coffee table.

There they sat, in complete silence. Bolin could feel Mako's eyes bearing down on him. The feeling of being stared at was familiar to him, after all. He thought that they would sit there, speechless, until Mako patted his thighs to a random beat and sighed.

"So, Bo, you never told me how you were doing?" Mako began in a soft tone. It was extremely noticeable that he was merely trying to ease the tension and break the short silence they just had.

"Oh, you know, I've been just fantastic." He said monotonously. If only that were true.

Mako looked to ignore his brother's negative tone, and continued with his attempts at lightening the mood. "Have you been keeping up with probending lately? There are some really interesting things going on there! New teams are forming, and they added some new rules."

Bolin just looked down at the floor. He thought what it might feel like to be in his brother's shoes; Mako had no idea what it was like to have the horrible pull of regret constantly at your feet. Or at least the type of hate that he feels. He had no idea what it was like to have to control your emotions and, feel like you were going crazy with everything you felt or saw.

Mako had no idea what it was like, and as far as Bolin was concerned, that was just how he'd keep it.

"No, I haven't."

His resolve not broken, Mako leaned forward. "Well, how have things been wi-…?"

"Mako…" Bolin interrupted with a raise of his hand. The firebender stared at the symbol on Bolin's palm as he put it back down on his lap. "Why did you come here?"

Bolin heard Mako adjust his position on the couch before answering. "To check up on how you were."

"You shouldn't be. I'm fine." He was lying from here to the Northern Water Tribe and both of them knew it.

"You don't seem fine!" Mako exclaimed loudly, using his hands to enunciate his point. "I've been coming to your apartment for days trying to get you to talk to me, and you've just now opened the door! I'm really worried, Bo."

"Don't be. You shouldn't even be here." Bolin said. He refused to look at Mako, instead keeping his depressive gaze towards the couch like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Mako cocked his head to the right and leaned forward further, his elbows resting on his knees. "Why shouldn't I be here?"

Bolin slowly moved his head up and finally returned his brother's stare. "Mako…why do you insist on coming back to try and talk to me? We both know what happened at that gas station." As the earthbender spoke, his voice became more and more choked. "I almost_ killed you._ I was lucky that I didn't! I hate to say it- but I was lucky that you only entered a coma and not something worse! You- you should hate me!" He exclaimed. You should be terrified of me and try to get as far away from me as possible."

Not waiting for Mako to reply, he instantly stood up and walked towards the window. The birds outside could barely be heard through the glass pane separating him from the outside world. Mako grunted and forced himself up, grabbing his crutch in the process as he limp-walked over to his brother.

He put his hand on Bolin's shoulder and turned him around. "Bo…I'm _not_ afraid of you. There's no reason to think I ever would be."

He pulled Bolin closer into a hug. The brotherly hug was sustained for a whopping one second, however, before Bolin pulled away and walked to the other side of the room. He took a deep breath and looked back at the firebender.

"Mako, I don't want -can't have- another 'gas station' incident to ever happen again." He stated bitterly. "For your own safety, I...I think we should s-stay away from each other." He tried to sound as convincing as possible. Chan coming to him this morning, and then an emotional encounter with Mako, is not what he had planned for the day. Mako looked seriously hurt at Bolin even suggesting such a thing. The elder stammered several times as he tried to come up with a reasonable response to such a statement.

"But, Bo, you're my brother. You were all I had for such a long time. I don't think I could ever stay away from you even if I tri-…" Bolin swiped his hand through the air to interrupt Mako. He kept his eyes closed in order to hide his true emotions, because I he looked at Mako- if he saw Mako's face, he's resolve would crumble, and_ no, no_-

"Mako, don't make this harder than it has to be." The words were quiet and pained. "For all purposes, we...we s-shouldn't consider ourselves brothers anymore."

The firebender had tears brimming in his eyes threatening to pool over every time he blinked. "I can't do that, Bo." He whispered.

"Please…don't call me 'Bo'. We're not supposed to be brothers anymore." He had to clench his jaw now.

"But we—"

"-We _can't_, Mako. This is just something that we're both going to have to accept. I almost killed you with my…powers." The word came out like a hiss; anger and thoughts were almost tangible in his wording. He walked towards the door with his head down. Opening the door, he looked at Mako with as stern of an expression as he could conjure. "I don't want that to happen again. As the hundreds of people have said-even Korra- I'm a monster. Monsters don't get the happy ending we've all dreamed of." His hands were trembling again. "I don't want my powers to end up getting you killed. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened. And for that reason, I think it's time that you left." He lowered his head again and tightly closed his eyes.

He could hear Mako trying to say something, but the only thing that came out was a few breaths and inaudible words. Finally Mako was silent. Bolin could hear the _step-clank-step-clank_ of Mako's foot and the crutch hitting the floor as he walked by. A hand was suddenly on his shoulder again.

"Bolin, whether you like it or not, I'll _always_ consider you my little brother. You just have to decide what you see me as. No matter what you hear, or see, or do, just know that I always have, and always will love you." Mako spoke just a touch above a whisper and the emotion in his voice was noticeable. Bolin heard his brother's rhythmic footsteps leave his apartment and go down the hallway. He waited until he could no longer hear the sound of Mako walking away before he closed the door. Taking a deep breath again, he looked throughout his apartment.

A clapping sound makes his gaze instantly go to the couch. The monster himself was sitting cross-legged on the pillows, whipping a mocking tear from his eye.

"That was just beautiful, dear Twelve. Such emotion, such conviction!" He sniffed. "Pretty soon, it'll be just you and me."

Bolin glared at him, but made no comment. He headed straight for the bathroom.

"You know," the Abdicator appeared right by his sink, "You'd really be doing them all a favor if you just ended it right now, Bo-Bo. I mean, do you honestly think anyone is going to miss you?" He said in his ear.

Bolin clenched his teeth. "Shut up. You don't know anything."

"Oh, really? Because when the Great Avatar called you a monster, I think she really meant it. I mean, she's the Avatar, how could she not? They're just waiting for you to die so they can celebrate."

"I said-_shut up!"_ Bolin hissed. His eyes flashed with light and the mirror shattered into a billion pieces. Bolin had to put his arms up to cover his face from the shards, but he had half a mind not to. He deserved it, anyway.

He blinked away the feeling in his head, and his eyesight returned to normal. His arms were shredded with glass, and all he could do was give a self-deprecating smirk.

"Come, Bolin." The voice pressed on. The bottom drawer opened instantly, and Bolin felt his breath catch. "All it takes are two little swipes." The Adbicator made a slicing motion with his finger across his wrist. His yellow teeth glistened.

For a moment Bolin was frozen in a choice. Slowly, he peered into the drawer as if in slow motion. He swallowed and dared to look inside.

It, to his, astonishment, was empty. The knife and pills were gone.

"Bless you, Asami..." He breathed, and slide down the wall.

"Awee...isn't that too bad..." The monster 'tsked'. "Don't worry, Bo-Bo. I believe in you. You'll do it eventually."

"_Go to hell."_ Bolin snarled.

"Oh, Number Twelve." He lips were by his ear in a flash. "Haven't you realized by now? This _is_ hell."

Bolin felt something snap inside him then. He felt something bubble up from inside him- an anger like never before. His eyes blazed green and the symbols on his hands began forming on the floor, climbing up the walls, and covering every inch of the bathroom in a patchwork of red ruins.

The Abdicator gasped, eyes wide in fear as the walls kept being covered. Bolin smirked devilishly, and stood up slowly, leering over him.

"Get out," Bolin snarled, "Get. Out. Of. My. HOME! _Ah-to-ni, shi-to-reph! Jah-noh-ba-sil!" _The ghost started smoking once more, just like the horrible night in the chamber. The room started to glow and the monster's scars started busting him into flames. He howled in agony, yelling curses and sputtering blood.

As Bolin snapped his hands at the horrid monster, the grizzly hand came out of the flames and latched onto Bolin's wrist. Bolin screamed.

"_We are one."_ He gurgled, blood drooling out of his mouth. Bolin's face started to feel like the skin was peeling. He scraped desperately at his face, falling to his hands and knees with the pain sent him down to the ground.

"Ahhh-AHHHH!"

His frantically grasped the sink to pull him up, and looked into the mirror. The symbol- the same Symbol of the Judged that was on the Abdicator's face- was etching itself onto Bolin's forehead like a knife. "_Gahh-!"_

"No, this-this is just a vision." Bolin moaned. "This c-can't be real-!"

Just then, he heard a snacking sound from behind him. The ghost of the Abdicator was half charred, his would-be flesh bubbling over. He let out a manic laugh.

"You think you could get away from me so easily, number Twelve. I would have killed you long ago if I could have. But daemons cannot die. They always come back as a new life."

"D-d-deamons...?" Bolin nearly vomited on the floor. "W-what are you taking about...?"

"Now, now." He hissed. A chunk of his ear fell to the ground and crumpled apart. Bolin dry heaved. "You didn't honestly think you were _human_, now did you, sweet Twelve?"

Bolin felt his pupils dilate. "W-what? No! M-my parents, they-"

"-Had absolutely no idea." He smirked. "If they had, they'd have probably tried to kill you themselves. I've tracked you down throughout the ages. Throughout your lifetimes. I couldn't kill you, so I did the next best thing."

Bolin pressed his body against the wall. "You-n-no...you didn't..."

Just then, the Abdicator's beady eyes, turned into ember. He raised his hand, and fire crackled from his fingers. When he opened his mouth, the words coming from his lips were in the voice of an eight year old Mako.

"I'm so sorry, Bo. Mommy and Dad are gone. A Firebender got them. They're dead."

"Stop it." Bolin closed his eyes tight.

"They're dead. But don't worry. I'm gonna take care of you. We're gonna be brothers forever."

"_I said stop it, you bastard!"_

Bolin howled once more. "_Jah-no-ba-sil!"_ The monster just laughed, and with a flash of light he was gone.

Bolin just stared at the ashes on the floor where the ghost had just been. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, with his new markings on his head, and the blood staining his hands.

_You didn't honestly think you were human, now did you, sweet Twelve?_

_I couldn't kill you, so I did the next best thing._

"No..." He slowly curled up in a ball, "N-no...Fuck! NO!" And the tears fell unforgivingly.

...

It's hours later and the moon is high in the sky when he manages to drag himself out of the bathroom, and crawl to the phone.

His fingers are shaking so bad, he doesn't know how he gets the number right on the first try.

She answers immediately. "Bo? Hello? Bolin, are you okay?"

_"It hurts."_

The phone falls from his grip to the floor, and her voice echoes on the other end.

"Bolin? Bo, please answer me."

He crawls to it. Blood is on his tongue.

_"Asami. Pleasehelpme."_

* * *

**Hey, guys, sorry this one was short. Been having a 'Supernatural' high since season 9 came out. I blame Sam and Dean Winchester.**

**Please tell me whatcha' think, and what you want to see more of with Bolin and Asami. May just make a new love interest for Bolin. Deciding weather she will have Powers or not. May be a baddie girl haha. Let me know your opinions, please.**

**Also, does the name 'Wen' sound like a nice girl character name? Send me some names. Guys, girls, any kind of names. Also, tell me some cool Powers that you'd like to see any of the characters have!**

**Thanks again! :)**


	5. Little Soilder Boy

The Book of Change:

_"And so he shall say to them, 'I am no leader. You have chosen the wrong person. Why me?' And his followers shall reply with 'You are meant to guide us. You were Chosen to.' He will deny this a first, but he will rise up, and a leader he will become."_

_Part 3, section 6; Page 131_

* * *

Asami Sato would like to say that she was always a loyal friend, in the best of times, and certainly in the worst of times. Yet she hears his frantic voice on the other end; the words clipped like sandpaper and bleeding like acid. He's saying it hurts, he's asking for her help.

And she hangs up on him.

_And this certainly is the worst of times._

The phone slams down so hard on the receiver that it bounces out and knocks over her glass of water. The water seeps into her socks as she fists her knuckles at her sides. She recalls hours earlier when a certain firebending detective (who was supposed to be in his office, and would have been if the world was not turning to shit) had arrived at her own apartment. That calm and collected demeanor had broken, and she had opened her door to an eight-year-old in a red scarf, leaning on a crutch.

"Mako? What is it? What's wrong?" she had asked, because one look in his eyes, and she could tell something had been severed within him.

His shoulders had sagged, and he said one simple answer: "He says we can't be brothers anymore for my own protection."

After a display of tears of the likes of which seemed so strange coming from someone who usually did the comforting, she had pulled him inside and listened. She had listened to his tears and remarks. She had listened and comforted. She had been a friend.

But now, as the water soaks up in her socks and the phone lay on the ground, she asks her self _why?_

Why should she help Bolin, when he's been avoiding all of them for weeks? He doesn't get to make her drive his drunken ass through the city after countless weeks in confinement, telling her to completely ignore his freak outs and borderline suicide attempts for one night, then shut them out again. No, better yet, he does not get to choose her once again to talk to, act like she's his savior, when he chooses to cut ties with his only family in some attempt at non-needed protection.

No, Mako doesn't deserve that.

Neither does she, or Korra.

And she can't bear to see him like that again.

The phone rings again.

_Riinngggg...rinnggg...ringggg..._

She throws it under her bed.

It's two in the morning. She thinks a tequila sounds good right about now.

* * *

"Yes, I am well aware of the situation, Captain Jiro," Tenzin replied into the phone receiver, rubbing the crease between his eyebrows. If he had said something once to this man- no this _completely competent_ Earth Kingdom Captain-he had said it a thousand times. And quite frankly, the fact that he didn't grace Republic City with his _wonderful_ presence during the Spring Solstice last year, was a blessing in of itself. Lin would have caused a earthquake as big as his ego if he ever stepped foot on their City's shores.

Tenzin sighed wearily. "We are taking all precautions against the riots caused by the Spirits-"

The angry voice on the phone says to_ try harder, because people in the Earth Kingdom are not afraid to attack Spirits, and take human lives of so-called 'Spirit-supporters'. Things are getting out of hand! If anyone stands in my way-and that includes those little child abominations your almighty Avatar seems to be so fond of-we will strike them down. Is that understood?_

Tenzin's teeth ground together. "Sir, with all due respect," he stated, (and dear Ta and La, was he forcing himself to chose his words carefully), "the world has just gone through a great change- Spirits and humans alike. I know you take pride in your Nation, but this is the whole world that has been effected. You cannot harm those Spirits and children for something that have no-"

A bitter snort cuts him off. Tenzin had half a mind to hang up, but knew that would just cause more bloodshed, and the Airbender in him- the father in him- just couldn't allow that. _The 'whole world?' Well, my Nation is my whole world, sir. But I assume you wouldn't be able to understand that. Being one out of the only living five of your culture does bring a sense of community, _the voice sneered. The sarcasm was not missed by the airbender master, however. _But mark my words, _monk._ If your forces do not take action, mine will, on my orders! The bloodshed with be on your head!_

Tenzin clutched the phone tight. His voice was steely. "No, you listen here, _Captain_. Threatening war on the Spirits will only make matters worse, and disrupt the new balance. Killing those children will only cause an uproar and make your people go against each other. Are you so blinded by your hatred that you are willing to break apart your own citizens?"

The captain sounded about as threatened as if Tenzin had given him a time out.

_As far as I am concerned-they aren't human, then they aren't my problem. You have one week, Monk._

The line hummed silent.

Tenzin pushed the phone down with shaking fingers. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. The wind was coming in from the shore and making the curtain flap with the breeze. _Yes, outside,_ he thought._ The gazebo. Meditation will help. And some prayers to our ancestors. _

And so he walked outside into the spot marked specifically for prayer. The incents blew up in colorful wisps the that filled the air will herbal scents.

His robes ruffled around him as he got into the cross-legged position. He closed his eyes.

_Ancestors, please hear our prayers. Watch over us._

The wind whistles through the trees, and caresses his face with over a hundred years passed.

* * *

The podium steps need fixing and the microphone won't stop buzzing no matter how much Korra tries to adjust it. She's sweating, and has cramps, and every few seconds a camera light flashes in her face, with a snout-nosed reporter barking at her.

The raging crowds are being blocked by an army of metalbenders, whose only defenses against the ruthless citizens and vengeful parents are threats to _stay back!_ and _Stay behind the line! _and_ We will use excessive force!_

She clears her throat. "I'm sorry...could you please repeat the question?"

"I asked you," the man reads off his paper, "what plans you have to subdue the angry Spirits and keep them from causing havoc?"

"My plans," She replies," are quite simple, and would make everything much easier if you would put in your own efforts to try and make peace with the Spirits. I understand your concerns-"

A woman yells from the crowd. "People are loosing their job and lives from these beasts! Don't you see they don't belong here? Make them leave!"

"I-"

"Make them leave!" The cries get louder.

"No," she tries,"that's not the solu-"

"Make them leave, now!"

"Get them the hell out of here!"

"This is our home, what gives you the right-"

"Never would have happened with Avatar Aang..."

"My child, my little baby-!"

Someone bends fire into the crowd. Screams erupt, and feet trample. _Stay back, stay behind the lines-!_

"Avatar Korra!"

"_Enough."_ Raava's voice.

All at once the people freeze, a handful of expressions pass their faces. They turn to her.

_"I am the Avatar, and you shall heed what I have to say." _Korra's eyes dim down and her own voice returns, though she can feel Ravva inside her like never before.

"As I have started recently," Korra's voice booms through the crowd, the microphone no longer needed, "this is our world now. We must learn to co-exist with the Spirits peacefully, or we will never find balance. Ravaa and I are trying our best to make the Spirits as comfortable as possible-"

Scoffs and 'boos' ring out.

"Yeah, comfortable enough to give friggin birth on my friggin lawn-!"

"My pootle-monkey was eaten whole yesterday!"

"What the hell are you trying to do-?"

Korra pressed down on the mic, so that it gave out a high-pinched wail. "Everyone, please calm down!" She yelled. "I am about to read to you a list of Laws that were made up by myself, Master Tenzin, and along with President Raiko, Chief Beifong, and the old members of the Council. I ask-"

"Fuck the Council! Fuck you!"

Korra almost saw red. "_I ask you to please_ listen carefully." Korra glared at the man, then brought her attention back to her speech, "These Laws will also be posted around the streets, with copies for you to take." She took a deep breath. "Let is be said, as ruled upon by Republic City officials, that anyone sixteen and older who disobeys _The Spirit and Powers Protection Laws_ shall be arrested, and possibly be put in court. Any child younger than that, showing any deliberate disobedience, and or, threatening the welfare of the Laws shall be reprimanded accordingly. The S.P.P Laws are as fallows:

_1) Force is only to be used against a Spirit, if it is self-defense. No deliberate acts of violence or suppression of any kind is to be taken upon them._

_2) In correlation to the above statement, Spirit Vines are to be left alone. No harm, or destruction is to forced upon them. If A Spirit, or Spirit vines are threatening your home, myself, along with aids, such as the Police, and crew workers will come to your aid. But otherwise, the vines are to be left alone._

With that last statement, Korra was forced to recall where this all began; just a week after Harmonic Convergence. Bolin's first vision ever-the very first sign that the Change had had any affect on him- had been about the dark nest of vines taking vengeance on the crew workers as they hacked away with their saws. Unfortuinity, that day had not been without casualties.

Korra thought of bringing that day up, to prove a point, but figured it would only make matters worse.

So instead, she said, "I assure you everyone; please, for you own safety, stay away from the vines. If you try to take them down, you will only get hurt."

Korra felt something twist in her gut as she looked at all the faces in the crowd; hate. Hate and scorn, and sorrow reflected back at her. Nearly a year and a half ago when she had arrived in the City, all innocent and spunk, ready to take on the world, these faces had been curious, happy for a new hope to finally be brought to the world.

And now they were filled with bitterness and broken families. And it was all her fault.

Korra felt herself begin to break out in a nerves sweat.

"I-I...um..."

_ You're the worst Avatar ever!_ the words came back in full force like it was yesterday.

_You're the one who brought the Spirits here in the first place! This is on you!_

"I, um, p-please-!" Korra swallowed and shook her head. She couldn't do this. This was her fault. They hated her. People were getting killed.

She did this. She-

_Korra, do not be afraid._

"Ravaa?" She whispered.

_You are doing well so far, dear. But you must continue. You must not give up hope._

However she doubted Ravaa's confidence in herself, she continued on.

She put her mouth to the microphone. "I am continuing on."

_3) Any Power Enhanced Child is to strictly be left alone, unless force is used against you. This does not include a loss of control on their part. If a child does lose control of their Power, no actions are to be taken to harm them, unless it is to ensure the safety of the majority at hand. If you see one of these children you are to act respectful, and without judgment. _

_4) In correlation to above statement, a Power is not considered an Illegal use of Bending. A loss of control of an individual's Power, rendering any persons to injury, is not liable for court. You-_

"Wait a second!" One man spat, "So _we_ can go to court for looking at the freaks the wrong way, but _they_ can't be trialed if they fucking kill one of us?! Well, it's clear to see which side you're on!"

"I know, right? This is insane."

"She makes Amon seem fair.

"Number Twelve...

"Did you hear? He killed that guy at the gas station, and he was still sent free!"

Korra took a deep breath. "Sir," she asked briskly, to the first man who had spoken up, "may I ask you your name?"

"Why? You gonna write me up to your cop boyfriend, sweet heart?" The words rolled off his tongue with confidence. That earned some laughs from the crowd.

Korra hid her flinch quickly. "No. I simply want to ask you a question."

The man bat his lashes. "Why, the Avatar- the savior of the world- wants to ask little 'ol me a question? What do I own the honor?" The scorn was not missed in his words. He bowed mockingly, and took of his hat. "Sorry, darling, I'm busy tonight. How 'bout tomorrow, that sound good?"

That one earned some guffaws and cheers from around him.

Korra grimaced, but quickly replaced it by an amused stare. The asswhole had to be around her father's age. She waited for him to respond.

"Well, if you must know, my name is_ Tzu Ji_."

"Mr. Ji, with all due respect," Korra forced out the words, "what would you do if it were your own child who had Powers? If they lost control and harmed someone?"

Ji pushed his lips. "Simple. They wouldn't be my kid anymore. Why should they be? Technically, they aren't like me-like us. Who says they're even human?" Korra gaped. This was not the answer she expected. "I'd tell 'em to leave, or I'd bury 'em in dirt."

That got a very mixed response from the crowed. Some cheered him on, while other's- parents, no less- scorned them for their horribleness.

Korra froze, her body going rigid.

_Bolin's livid green eyes, and horrid chanting. The thugs' blood-curling screams._

_Mako's heart-wrenching cry, his body falling to the ground._

_MAKO!_

_Bolin's broken look, like his world had fallen apart._

_M-Mako?_

_Her blinding rage. _

_Monster!_

She shivered, and but her lip. She was such a fucking hypocrite.

"I'm sorry, Bo. I'm _so sorry_...I didn't _mean it_."

She was about to respond to the provoked crowd, when a hand on her shoulder made her look back.

Tenzin. His solemn eyes matched her own. "Come, Korra. You did you best. There is nothing else to be said for today."

"But, Tenzin! I can't just leave them like this! They have to understand-"

Tenzin made her face him. "And they will, Korra. They will, in time. We just have to take it day, by day."

Her face fell in defeat. "I suck at Politics. Why is it that I can only solve things with violence? Aang would know how to fix this."

"You aren't giving yourself enough credit." He told her, "Aang faced his own share of hardships. Now, come on. Let's go home while the streets are still blocked off."

As she walked down the rickety steps, Korra felt something in her. It was- doubt.

"Tenzin?" she whispered.

"Yes, dear?"

"I think this is the first time I've ever not wanted to be the Avatar."

Tenzin just looked down at her with sad eyes, and griped her tighter.

"A bit of meditation will do you some good, I think."

"Yeah. Okay."

* * *

It was the morning after Bolin's two wonderful confrontations, and quite frankly, saying he felt like shit, would have been the understatement of the century.

Asami had hung up on him last night without so much as a reason why. _Good to see who still cares about me _he thought bitterly_, friends forever, huh?_ And, so supposedly, he was some so-called leader now to a wonderful band of freaky children, and -_oh, yeah-_ he basically told his brother-no, Mako, had told _Mako-_ that they should never see each other again, and were in no way related anymore.

_Oh,_ and to top it all of- he wasn't even fucking_ human. _The Abdicator had killed their parents that horrible night over ten years ago to get at him-that much was clear. Like he needed _something else_ to blame himself for.

Bolin remembered in perfect detail how the firebender had looked- or what they had thought to be just an ordinary monstrous firebender- right before his parents had told him to run, that Mako would be right behind him.

His beady, ember eyes, and fire crackling from his hands.

The scars on his face...

_"Hand over your money, or the little brats get it!" The fire in his grimy hands had grown stronger as he stepped closer. Mako and him had huddled behind their mother, clutching desperately her skirts._

_Their father had stepped in front of them, holding out his hands in surrender. "Take it easy. We don't want any trouble."_

_"Oh, but, daddy, I'm afraid you don't really have a say in this," he smirked and clutched their father's collar. Kun swung at him, and the thug caught his first, bending it backward, and burning the skin very crispy in the process. He smiled cruelly as Kun howled._

_"Mommy, I'm scared!" a six-year old Bolin had whimpered. She had shushed him, and pushed them back behind her further._

_"I'll give you once last chance," the monster drawled. Bolin stared in terror up at him, shaking. He could have sworn something shimmered across his face..._

_Kun turned towered his wife. "Nuan." He whispered, and nodded slightly to her purse. Their mother handed it to him, and their father quickly took it in his good hand._

_"See?" Their father, Kun, had stated cautiously, holding the simple, red embroidered purse in plain sight. He opened it, showing the money as he took it out. "It's all here. Just take it and let us go home." Kun put the money back in the purse, and flung the purse on the ground at the man's feet._

_"Ohhhh...but too bad it's not really money that I want tonight." He leered. A fireball was shot right at their mother's feet, her dress catching. She screamed._

_"Nuan!"_

_"Mommy!" Both boys yelled._

_"Mako!" Kun exclaimed, looking frantic, and trying to put some distance between the thug and his family."Take Bolin and run! Go someplace safe- your mother and I will meet you there soon!"_

_"But, dad-"_

_"No, buts! Go! NOW!"_

_"I'm not leaving you!" Mako yelled. His hands started to heat up, but he was too terrified to use his bending. The thug punched Kun in the face and he fell to his knees. Blood pooled at the corner of his mouth._

_"Dad!"_

_With Kun down for the moment, the thug advanced on the mother and the boys._

_"P-please, leave us alone," she begged._

_"Oh, sorry, sweetheart." he whispered hotly in her ear, "But it's not you that I want, either."_

_Bolin was holding Mako for dear life, shaking and crying with snot running down his face. But he couldn't bring himself to look away from the man. His face did that shimmery thing again, and Bolin had sworn he had see that before in a dream. A nightmare that Mako had said that only baby's cried about. The one where the flaming monster ate Mommy and Daddy and gobbled them whole. But he was just a baby, and babies are scared of everything._

_Their mother was pushed violently aside the by man, and as he reached out a grimy hand to Bolin. Mako tried to push Bolin behind him and use his bending-but something snapped. It happened so fast, no one was sure they had really seen it at all._

_Bolin's eyes suddenly flashed green, and the dumpster right by the thug, started shimmering and twisting._

_"LEAVE US ALONE!" Bolin wailed, and the explosion of metal and glass sent the man back a good three feet._

_A moment later, Bolin was left panting heavily, with Mako and their mother looking at him incredulously._

_"...B-bo? Baby?" Their mother started to get up._

_"Woah!" Mako exclaimed, "How did you-?"  
_

_Before Mako could finish, they were pushed aside by their mother, as another sizzling fireball was sent their way. She screamed and went down, her shoulder blackened and blooded._

_"Mommy!"_

_A manic laugh was heard from the ground. The thug was shaking with glee. "Amazing. You are even more powerful than I thought, and at such a young age! The things we could do together..."His eyes locked upon the boys like an animal. He started advancing on them, two white-hot balls of fire in his hands._

_She looked desperately back at them._

_"BOY'S, RUN! We'll be alright! GO!"_

_Mako started to say something-most likely a protest of their mother's wishes._

_"Mako, listen to me-!"_

_ But the thug looked back at Bolin with a horrible gleam in his eyes. "Do it again." he urged quietly, "Come on, do it again. I know you can... DO IT!" he screamed._

_Bolin shook his head and backed away. He took one last look at his mother, who's ember eyes were pleading with him, blood all over her. Far behind, their father was groaning and slowly getting up._

_"Baby, please, run!" she begged._

_And without one look back, Bolin ran away as fast as he could, tears streaming down his face._

_He thought Mako was behind him._

_He had just reached the end of the street when he saw the flames of the fire, the shattering howls, and Mako's horrible screams. And when he went back to the alley-_

No. He wasn't going to this about that. Wouldn't allow himself to think about that. That would just bring up even more _bad memories,_ and he didn't need to get anymore depressed.

So that was why, seven in the morning when the sun was barely even up yet, he found himself standing in front of the Warehouse's rusted door.

Three echoing bangs were all it took for the little slit on the inside to open. Ember eyes behind a pair of glasses peered through. _"Passward."_

"Chan, it's _me._ You can see me."

"I'm going to need a name, and some identification-"

Bolin groaned. Honestly? He didn't have time for this. He understood the kid was young and trying to cope, but shit was going down, and games were not going to change that.

"Chan, for the love of Agni, if you don't open the damn door-"

_"-Alright!_ Sheesh. You people can't take a joke..." Bolin rolled his eyes and waited as the door was pried open.

As soon as Bolin stepped through the threshold, it was rammed shut. "You've been listening to those new evening cop radio shows, haven't you?"

"_Pftt_. No." He plopped down on the couch. "What do you think I am- some kid? I have better things to do with my time than-"

He hesitated when he saw Bolin glance at the radio that was on the side table. The dial was indeed turned to said station.

Bolin rose an eyebrow and smirked.

Chan blushed. "A guy needs his tender moments." he stated. "Anyway. Shit is going down, shall we talk about it, great leader?"

Bolin fought the urge to say something rather rude. Instead he went with. "We shall. And I'm_ not_ your leader."

Chan just nodded. "The others will be here tomorrow by noon. Some live far away, others can't get away from their, ya know, _home,_ and whatnot." Bolin was aware of the way Chan's face twisted slightly on the word 'home' and vaguely wondered if he was still welcomed at his. "So it's just you and me tonight, Spooks. How's about a stakeout?"

"Sounds like a good start. We need to know what we're up against before we attack." Wow, did those words really come out of his mouth? It surprised him how much he sounded like Mako at the moment. "But, uh, stakeouts usually happen at night, and right now it's morning."

Ugh, nevermind.

"Thank you, captain obvious." Was the reply. Bolin snorted. "But, seriously, what do you think I do with my freak-filled time? I made a list." he stated, and hopped off the couch.

Bolin froze. "A...a list?" he asked faintly as he watched him go to a cabinet and open the bottom drawer. And he swore that horrid gift box was in front of him again, with its green wrapping paper and frilly bow...

_The Abdicator makes the Laws, he shall be the Judge..._

"Yeah...You know, a list?" Chan's tone was like he was talking to a five-year-old "You mark things down on it?"

_The List knows all, so shall be Marked..._

"N-no!" They were coming for him again. They were all going to get him, right through the fog. "Leave me alone!" Their bones were clanking, and they were yelling at him. He was laughing. He was laughing and whispering in his ear. They were all right in front of him now and they were going to rip to shreds and feed him to the snakes-

_If any child goes against-_

_"Bolin!_ Hey. Dude, you with me?"

Bolin blinked, and Chan was right in front of him, his eyes looking over him left and right. Concern. Slight worry.

Bolin nodded slighty and took a deep breath. "Y-yeah..."

Chan hid it with sarcasm, and turned a back to the cabinet to find what he was looking for. "Sheesh, you really are damaged goods, aren't you?"

"S-sorry." Bolin swallowed, clenching his fists. "W-when you said 'list' it just made me- I-I mean I just thought..."

Chan stopped, his hand dropping his pencil, and it clattered to the floor. "_Shit."_ When he turned back around, his eyes were guilty and flickering. "Bolin, dude..._Awe, jeez,_ man, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean it like _that."_

Bolin just looked at him sadly.

"I-I mean," Chan sighed wearily, and cursed under his breath. "I don't think before I speak sometimes, okay? When I said, you know, _list_, I meant I'm writing stuff down that the Surrogates have, and what each of our powers are and stuff. So I know what we have, ya know? Jeez, I'm sorry-"

"Chan." Bolin held up his hand. Chan's eyes stared just a minute too long at his symbols, before looking back up at him again. "It's fine. Really."

"You don't hate me?"

Bolin blinked. What? How could this kid keep from going from so cocky and smart-mouthed, to looking like a wounded cat-owl in a second?

"No, of course not. Look. Let's go over the-...what you have for right now, okay? So we can prepare for tonight?"

"Yeah." Chan breathed. "Good idea."

.

Honestly, it seemed like they stood a chance. Chan and them had rallied of up a good group, some not even from the City. As much as Bolin hated to think, he wondered why these kids hadn't been on the List. What, was out of the City too long of a distance for the Abdicator?

Bolin told himself to shut up as he looked back at all the names and ages of the kids, and what powers they had. The good thing was, most of them were older, and some were even benders.

"The factor of control, however, "Chan brought his attention back, "comes into play."

"How long did it take you?" Bolin asked. "To gain control, I mean."

Chan's eyes got a far away look, and Bolin could tell he was remembering something. Memories of falling though floors and walls and having parents who didn't really give a crap, probably.

_That must have been hard_, Bolin thought,_ but how hard can it be to phase through things? It sounds like a blessing. Less likely to become target practice._

Chan shrugged. "A while. No big deal."

And that_ really_ pissed Bolin off for some reason; that nonchalant, easy answer. For a moment, Bolin _hated_ Chan. He was so envious of him, that he wanted him to suffer ten times what he did. Chan had no idea how much his Power would have benefited them on the street. How he could have stuck his hand through a loaf of bread-no, a hundred loafs- taken it off the cart without any sound, and having it look nearly invisible as he carried it away without the fear of being caught. How instead of running and twisting through alleyway's, dodging away from elements and punches, they could have blended right into the walls, without being seen. How much easier that all would have been.

And here Chan was, bitching about his parents not paying attention to him like some whiny brat-_damn it,_ that fucking pissed him off. Bolin would give anything- _anything-_ to see his parents again, especially since he was the monster that had gotten them killed in the first place. Everything would have just been better if hadn't been born.

Bolin scoffed. "Oh, I'm_ so_ sorry." The sarcasm was not missed.

Chan eyed him. "Oh, yeah, about what?"

"I'm so sorry you have such a _hard_ life." Bolin drawled out, the mocking words making Chan tense. Honestly, one of the last things he needed right now was to make an enemy out of someone that could very well be a friend, but he didn't care. "Poor you with your horrible powers and poor parents who won't listen to your problems. _Wah, wah, wah_!" Chan narrowed his eyes.

"Shut up, dude,"

Bolin continued on. "At least you have a home, and a family! You get to go to school, and eat whenever you want! No one hates you, no one thinks you're a monster! You're_ fucking_ human! Show some fucking appreciation instead of being a sarcastic little butt! I mean-"

Bolin felt his face snap back, and a crunch as Chan's fist connected with his jaw. Yeah, a tooth was definitely lose. He stumbled back, and blinked until Chan became one little butt face instead of three.

"What the hell, man?!"

"Oh, I'm _so sorry."_ He shot back, "But someone had to put you in your place."

"My _place?!"_ Bolin's eyes narrowed.

"You know, I thought they were wrong about you. The other kids, the City." Chan breathed heavily, whipping his hand on his shirt. "At first I blamed you. I blamed you for everything. Kuzon, Ta Gee, the fear-_everything. _I even thought about trying to kill you myself. And not for the glory-oh,no. Not for the satisfaction of being the City's savior who killed the horrible Number Twelve, the cursed Bolin-monster-child. No, because for some crazy, messed up reason, I thought it would fix everything; get my parents to love me, get my friends to come back to life, and Mie to love me like I love her."

Bolin just looked at the ground. He clenched his teeth together and shut his eyes. How was he supposed to respond to that?

"But then," Chan continued on, and Bolin opened his eyes a sliver, "my view changed. Maybe the stories, the legends were right about you. Maybe you really were meant to save us and be our leader. I really thought you could help us." he stated lowly. "But I guess I was the one who was wrong."

And with that, he vanished through the ground.

Bolin shut his eyes tight. Damn it, that wasn't how things were supposed to go.

"Chan! Chan, I'm sorry!" he called. "Please!"

He opened his eyes, but he was still gone.

"I'm sorry I'm so fucked up..."

* * *

Rai and Aichida respected their wheels very much, but that isn't to say they didn't like to test out other people vehicles now and again. A good carburetor and paint job goes a long way, and individual parts, with some good 'ol TLC, could get any man some decent cash.

So with a little metelbending here, and a few boulders to the head there, breaking into that bitch Sato's so-called 'company' was sweeter than a hot dame and a Bloody Agni cocktail in one night.

Almost.

Rai whistled loudly and patted the windshield, "This girl's a beaut, ain't she, Muscles?"

"She sure is, Strings. Let's see how well she purrs." He smirked.

He went around back, and popped the trunk, licking his lips as to what lay inside.

Too bad they weren't talking about the car.

Asami struggled against the ropes tied around her, her curses and yells earning nothing but muffled gags and a sharp whimper when the thug's foot connected with her shin.

"Oh, sorry, sweatheart, can't here ya." He laughed. Then he bent down to her ear, and twisted a lock of her hair between his fingers. He smirked when she shivered. "Say, princess," his breath was hot in her ear. _Oh, what they'd get that bastard Bolin to do once he saw they had this bitch..._"do you think the car would pay more if it got a little blood in the trunk? Add a little personal character to it?"

All he got were a few muffled and unheard words. Aichida brought his beefy hands to her face and pinched her cheeks. "That's what I thought." he winked, then slammed the trunk closed.

Rai was already in the passenger seat by the time Muscles hopped in front and grabbed the wheel. He cracked his neck and adjusted the mirror, wiggling his brows at his reflection.

"Spirits, I'm beautiful..."

"Just drive the damn car, you twit. Before we get caught."

"Agni, you sound like my mother." he stated, spitting over the door. He ran his fingers over his hair and smirked. "And not in a good way. Calm the hell down; everyone's knocked out."

"Please, I have less facial hair than your 'old woman ever did, and a better liver. If either one of us here is gonna be the voice of reason, it's me." He slammed his hand down hard on the door when an annoying echo came from the truck. "SHUT UP! I've never heard a bitch so annoying before. Wren didn't fucking die so we could babysit. He'd want us to live it up in the Taverns, not go around stealing shit."

"Don't talk about Wren like you knew him better than me!" his partner snapped. "This shit is all for him. I'm gonna make Bolin pay. He's gonna scream bloody murder until the last thing he sees is my face. I'm gonna-"

Strings held a hand up to stop him, looking at the back door. "_Fuck,_ I hear voices! Drive the damn car!"

The accelerator hit flat on the floor, with a roar of the engine. Smoke hissed out of the tires, with a black trail of tar.

"Stop, thieves! HEY!"

"Someone call the police!"

"Where is Miss Sato?"

The interior wall of the factory explodes once the car makes contact with it. Dust and cement give way to the light of day on the other side.

A blaring honk sounds from behind, and Aichida dares a look in his mirror to see a car from the Future Industries fast approaching. A fireball narrowly missis singing his head.

Instead of cursing, he laughs like a wild man.

"What the hell is wrong with you," Rai snaps. "You nearly caught fire!" He bends his arms up, and punches out; a huge column of earth raises up between the two cars, and their chasers slam on their breaks, nearly going off the road.

"Suck my dick, bitches!" was the thug's vulgar reply as cars honked and swerved around them. Another car honked, the people in it cursing and making rude gestures, but Muscles just used his bending to pop their tires, watching as their screams and destroyed vehicle faded behind them down the road.

He made a sharp turn left, the tires protesting all the while, and went down a narrow side street that they could barely make it through.

As they got closer and closer to the tunnels, Muscles slammed on the breaks to prevent the tires from getting stuck in the mud; they crashed into the dashboard, panting slightly.

"We're hear, princess." he called, "I better see some character back there!"

_No one kills Wren and gets away with it. We're coming for you, Bolin. Just you wait._

* * *

When Bolin awakens-on the floor of his apartment, no less-he can still feel her phantom arms around him, hear her words of love whispered in his ear(_or is that Mako? Isn't_ _it the same thing?_)-smell the scent of her hair( _cherries-no, vanilla-and spices like the bread she baked.._.)

Then his crust-filled eyes flicker open, (letting in a barrage of light that elicits a curse, and the onset of a blooming headache) and they slowly travel from the drool spot pooling on his cheek, to the carpeted floor that still smells like crap, and finally, settle upon the coach in front of him. With one hand, he pushes himself up, groaning with the fatigue in his protesting muscles. Or, all of him, really.

_One. Two. You can do this. Take it slow._

_Breathe._

He manages to push himself up on aching legs, half contemplating to just lay back down again. Why did he get up in the first place? Oh, that's right-_a feeling._

_Fucking freaky vibes. _He was perfectly fine in his comatose state, but his freak-o-meter just had to go off.

His hands burned. He didn't need to look down to know they were glowing.

He sighed, and began walking towered the table.

_Come on. Left, right. Left. Right._

_You can do this._

_Breathe._

_Idon'twanttodothis._

His headache started to spike, and he shut his eyes. One hand massaging his temple, he decided that it was no use trying to ignore the presence. They obviously had come to him for a reason, and weren't going to leave without their share.

He took a deep breath and rubbed between his eyes. How was he going to do this?

It-they-the ghost..(?)...it was in the living room and very strong; the energy he could feel for sure. But- something was off. He hated to admit it, but he had kinda gotten the hang of distinguishing the types of ghosts that were there from the energy they gave off, before he could even see them.

He should get a fucking award.

Spirits, if he could hear himself right now... _'Types of ghosts'_. This was what his life had turned into. He didn't just have ghosts now, he had fucking 'types.' The bitter chuckle coming from his lips surprised even him.

"Listen, you, um, can't...Whoever you are, I-" Shit._ That_ wasn't how he wanted to start this conversation. Did he even want to be having this conversation? Agni, wanted a cigarette, and maybe some dumplings. Quite possibly a twenty-foot drop into an icy ocean. But, this-

It was by the coach now.

He couldn't even _see_ it yet, and he could fucking tell.

But the thing was- it wasn't..._angry._ No, no, that wasn't it. It didn't seem angry or resentful, or-bad? It wasn't feeling those emotions, wasn't making him feel those emotions.

It actually felt- _loving._

_Boolliinnn..._

A flicking form, a shadow- no, a patch of light. By the couch.

There. And _there._ Two of them.

"Look, whoever you are," his voice came out raspier than he expected, "I-I can't help you. You need to leave. I don't-" he winced, his vision blurring as they hovered closer, "I don't-"

_Boollinnn..._

"I can feel you. I know you're there. B-but I... don't want... to hurt you." He spoke to them, hoping they could understand, "Please," his teeth clenched and he griped the edge of the table. "You're _hurting_ me. You need to leave. Y-you..."

But they moved closer still, flashes of light bouncing off the walls, wispy smoke stinging his nose.

_Boolllinnnn...BOOOOLLLINNNNNN!_

_"P-please, stop..." _He could taste blood in his tongue now. They were so close they could almost touch him; the transparent outline of a arm, its fingers streaching towered him.

His eyes blazed green at one. His head exploded/went supernova/detonated.

_"Ahhhhhhhhh!"_

But still, for some reason, they didn't feel threatening. Only _sad, afraid_. But still loving.

So why was he feeling so angry and remorseful? So much pain? Why-?

His eyes snapped open again, the light blazing like a green sun.

_The hatred was at himself._

"No..."

(_He can still feel her phantom arms around him, hear her words of love whispered in his ear; smell the scent of her hair( cherries-no, vanilla-and spices like the bread she baked...)_

(And mud, the fresh scent of the rain washing the earth. (His hearty laughter and tickle of stubble against his cheeks. Wet kisses and late-night stories.) How he chased them around the yard and swung them in his arms; a red tread always leading them back to him.)

_Bolin..._

And then they were there in front of him, as clear as day.

"_M-momma? Dad...?"_

And he collapsed to the floor.

* * *

**Hey, guys, let me know what'cha think! I am trying to add actual action scenes, instead of so much dialogue. I apologize; everything I write turns into one big, fat dialogue, and no action. :[**

**Please review, and feel free to give me any ideas!**

**P.S: Boa, my love, whenever you read this, if you don't mind, could you post two separate reviews? Your reviews are amazing and make me so unbelievably happy, but when they cut off I wanna through a hissy fit! alhfalhfajhf,jhaf! Thank you! :)**

**...**

**Wow...this chapter sucked. I keep going back to edit, and seeing more and more typos each time :( Faiilll...**


	6. The More Things Change

_Can you remember_

_who you were,_

_before the world_

_told you who you should be?_

_K.W._

* * *

As the man looked over the assortment of instruments on the walls, he tested out their sharpness. The subject lay on the table, body prone and motionless since her last injection, and, quite frankly, he'd had half a mind to slap her awake. Hearing their screams where half the fun, anyway, and the females certainly had shrill voices.

But, it was routine time for another dosage, and _Agni,_ were they on a schedule. Testing pain tolerance and immunity must come first before the big experiments, after all. Isha would have his body fried in a second flat if word ever got out of Surrogates wasting time, money, and opportunity on the Bad Seeds. Not that anybody dare would. He could practically hear Isha yelling at them now:

_Find the Bad Seeds first, take out the weak ones. Only the strong ones will survive the experiments. We have to find the strongest of the strong. This is a New World, after all. I will not allow Bad Seeds to taint my revolution!_

But did that stop them from killing any of the subjects that got out a hand, regardless of the possible potential? _Hell_ no. Last week, a male subject had gotten too cocky for his own good-and caught Isha on a very bad day-had managed to scream his little ear-splitting scream of bitchy-ness until the windows shattered, and all the Surrogates who had been in the cell( including Isha himself) had gotten knocked back from the force so hard that five of them had sustained concussions and a fracture or two.

And it was his job to 'take out' any of the ones that misbehaved. Not that he minded, much. It made the other Surrogates respect him, Isha to leave him alone to do a bonus experiment or two if his curiosity got the better of him. And, well, he couldn't say that the fear in the little abominations' eyes right when they _knew_ he was going to be the last face they ever saw, wasn't a reward in of itself.

All in a day's work in the next step for the New World.

A minute after his pondering, he decided to just place the whole try of tools on the table. He looked over at the subject; the skin on her arms and legs was raw from all the thrashing against the straps. He smirked to himself; he had to give the little bitch some credit. She had put up a hell of a fight.

After locating his needle, he pressed his gloved-finger into the crook of her elbow, feeling for one of the many veins that were slowly being infected with the toxins. He shook the contents in the syringe one last time, before sticking the tip somewhat forcibly into the vein, and watched as the liquid seeped in like ink.

Little tremors struck her at once; twitches crawling up the muscles in sudden, jerky motions. The skin around the injection site started to turn red instantly.

Pfft; and that was only, like, about the fourth-no, _fifth-_ cycle.

"C'mon, SPEC," he mocked, "Thought you'd last a little longer than this. It's just a little lethal white blood cell-deteriorating cocktail."

He took out another needle, shaking the liquid in the syringe once again, and pushed it into her vein.

The spasms increased. A blood curling scream ripped from her throat as her back ached.

"Now, that's more like it." He leered, writing down notes on his pad.

_Day seven: Subject A18_

_Subject has low pain tolerance. Dosage five caused severe spasms, and shocked her into half-conscious state. _

_Next step; bone marrow probing._

He placed his pad down just as the subject's body started to calm down. He went around her, slowly, tightening all the straps again at the ankles, knees, elbows, writs and abdomen.

His scalpel was resting on the table, ready to explore. He probably should clean the last subject's blood off it first, but couldn't find a reason to care about such petty things like..._cleanliness,_ and _germs_. He was a fucking doctor, not a maid.

He plunged the knife into the left thigh, separating the burnt tissue from the muscles, and the muscles from the bones with his instruments. The white marrow shone bright around the think, red tendons.

"Oh, daring, don't you have anything better to do than lay still?" he asked mockingly, chucking to himself, "Looks like I overestimated you. But we do go through our girls quite fast; they just don't seem to have much potential." He 'tsked' to himself.

He _plunged_, and he _pulled._ All he needed was a little piece-

A hand clutched onto his wrist, the blunted fingernails digging into his skin. His tools clattered to the floor.

"What the fu-?"

The head was turned to him ever so slightly, the green in her eyes open in little half slivers, and so glazed over, one would have to lean in close to tell.

Her mouth opened slightly, the breath whistling in a cracked inhale due to the blood oozing from her bitten tongue.

_"Y-you...wish...ba...bastard..." _It was pained and quiet, but the fire in her eyes had let to go out.

He was about to punch the little shit in the face, or maybe rough her up a little for being so ballsy, when the tools started-... _hovering._

They_ twisted_ and _floated_ in the air, almost on their own accord, cycling him faster and faster.

He nearly shit his pants, to be honest.

A laughter cut through the whirl of the spinning knifes around him. She was actually _laughing_ at him! Why, that little-!

But she could only turn invisible; at least, that was what her file said. So what the _fuck-_

"How are you doing this?!" he yelled, dodging a scissor that narrowly missed his head. "Stop! I'm warning you, you little shit! You're gonna pay for-"

_"It's not me,"_ she smiled like a drunk, then her eyes rolled back and her head fell on the table again. Passed out once more for the time being, so it seemed.

His eyes grew to the size of saucers, as he stared at the assortment of knifes pointed right at his head. He didn't even have time to react as a particularly sharp one, -and of a very large size- hitched up in the air, then flew across the room, slicing right through his stomach like butter. The blood splattered the walls, and he grasped desperately at the hole in his stomach, red drooling out him with every non-effective breath.

His vision began to fade instantly, but he swore he heard a faint giggle, and then a whisper off: "_Thanks, Ta Gee. You got 'em good_."

His hand grasped frantically for the wall, feeling for the red button by the door. The alarm blared, signaling for backup that would be too late to come.

The last thing he sees is a certain middle finger pointed at him, ( he can't help smirking at the irony of his death. Those little shits did do 'em good) and his own blood splattered on the wall as he slumps against it. He couldn't say he hadn't had it coming.

He lifts his finger up. "Same...to...you..." He spits.

And then he was gone.

* * *

Bolin wakes up on the couch now, as if only minutes have passed (all though, if the sky is anything to go by, it's somewhere close to early evening by now). Not that it really matters.

He rolls over with a groan, and sits up. The memories of...whenever he was last conscience... seize him like a force. His eyes snap open in full awareness, as he practically springs off the couch.

"Where are you?" he whispers. He can already feel the tears pricking his eyes, but won't dare let himself say their names, for fear that this was some messed up dream.

"C-come back...Please..."

He scans the room, makes his way into the kitchen. Looks everywhere.

A few minutes pass, the silent apartment screaming back at him, when he breaks.

He falls to his knees and screams, pulling his hair out in black tuffs. Everything is just too damn much. Did they come back just to gloat? Just to blame him for getting them killed? Why was this happening to him? Couldn't he just fucking _die_ already? Why-?

Then the sharp smell of vanilla fills the room, along with the subtle scent of fresh rain. A sensation is on his shoulder, and he looks up.

_Our sweet Bolin...Our son..._

There they are, in plain sight once again. He stiffens, won't allow himself to blink. He sticks his hand out, nearly touching hers. When his flesh meets her wispy form, it fades right through with a hiss of air.

"M..._Mom?"_

_It's us, sweetie. But we don't have much time. There are things you have to know...things you were too young to understand before...We're so sorry for leaving you._

"No, this is my fault!" He stands up, "I got you killed! He wanted _me_-!"

She shakes her head at his response, and his father appears right next to her.

_It was meant to be, my darling. There is nothing you could have done. You cannot blame yourself for things you_ _have no control over._

He can't help the tears falling now. "But it is my fault! I had the power to protect you! Everything that's been happening has been because of me!" He cries out, but their forms never waver. "I'm sure you've heard by now," he says bitterly. "I'm not even human. Daemons just cause death everywhere."

He swears her ghost-eyes soften. His father speaks up now.

_It's true, son; you aren't human._ his voice says, and Bolin looks away, _But what you are, doesn't make you _who_ you are. It's the path you choose and the choices you make._

Bolin is silent for a long time. He leans against the wall and slides down. He asks the question that's been plaguing him for days.

"I'm not really your son, am I?" he asks slowly, and Spirits be damned he's always felt _different_. Maybe somewhere inside him, he _knew_ all along. But he has to know the truth. "Mako, and I, we... we aren't even related, are we?"

_Oh, sweetie...Of course you are, Bolin. Of course you are our son_. Bolin lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He can practically feel a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"Then how am I...?" He doesn't even know what he was going to say. Cursed? Damned? Evil? How can he be who he is, and come from people who were so good?

_Mako,_ his father's voice swims through the room as if it were yesterday, _is your true brother, and we are your true parents, yes_._ At least, in this life time._ _And_ y_ou..._ And there he goes again with that almost-sad-feely look, _we loved you no matter what fate had in store for you_. Bolin's heard from his assortment of ghostly friends, that ghosts can't feel anything. But that didn't stop their faces from looking like they did.

_Kun,_ Nuan held up her hand, _I'll tell him, dear._ Her amber eyes stare right at him. _I know this is going to be hard to explain, sweetie. But please, hear us out. You need to know, and understand. When Mako was two years old, and you were still inside my tummy-_she pressed her palms down on her stomach, with a tender expression...a_ Spirit came to our house._

"A Spirit?"

She nodded. _She told us so many things about you, what you were going to do. And all we ever saw you as was the most precious little bundle ever, so tiny and innocent looking..._

"For a deamon." Bolin spat.

Nuan sighed. _You were never anything more than our little boy to us, even if you were covered in all those markings._ Bolin looked down at his hands and arms, the symbols sticking out darkly against his pale skin.

"What- what did the Spirit say?"

_She was a Spirit Guardian. She had told us that she had lost her babies many decades ago by the hand of an evil man._

Bolin growled._ "The Abdicator."_

_Yes,_ She stated, _The Spirit called herself 'Ah-to-ni' and told us that it was too dangerous for you to be in her hands anymore; that dark forces were coming for you. When your father and I asked why, who would do that to such a child, she said that you were no ordinary child. You had past lives for decades, just like the Avatar. You were in fact, a deamon, she said, who's powers would emerge and progress over the years. You'd have immense power, that would come with a price. She said some dark Spirits wanted you to be their ruler, their 'Anti-Avatar' among other things, to cause chaos everywhere. But An-to-ni and your protectors thought otherwise, and sought to raise you to hone your abilities to help the world when it Changed. They hoped for the best...but did not know which side would provoke you. If you were meant to good, or evil..._

His whole body was shaking, and his teeth were clamped down hard. What was he supposed to say to that?

The horrid yells of_ Monster! _rang in his mind. Eyes full of hatred and full of judgment. His vision of his evil reflection in the mirror in the Abdicator's hide out nearly made him vomit.

"So..." he swallowed thickly. "You knew all along?" It hits him that the Abdicator lied about that, when he said they had no idea. For some reason, that makes him angry. "Did...Mako know?"

It was his father's turn now. He shook his head. _Mako had no idea; we agreed not to tell him._

"You didn't?"

_No, sweetie. Why would we? It was hard enough for you to fit in as it was. You used to wake up screaming in the middle of the night, saying monsters were coming to get you-ones only you could see._ She clasped her hands down at your sides, her voice pained-as-a-ghost's-voice-could. _Sometimes...you'd have dreams, and they'd come true. Or just somehow knew things you'd have no way of knowing...We tried to protect you for as long as possible. We tried to give you a normal, love-filled life..._

_"_And you did!" Bolin cried; his heart was beating so fast, he thought he might faint. His skull ached, and an echoing shatter sounded from behind. One of the chairs, no doubt, now in splinters. He didn't like them much, anyway. "I know I don't remember much of those first six years, but they were the best in my life! All I ever wanted was to feel safe, and whenever you ran back to my room, the horrible feelings went away! You both were so amazing.."

_ We tried to be..._She said. She looked at Kun sadly, and he put a hand on her shoulder, _An-to-ni, she told us to protect you with our lives, and make sure no harm of any kind came to you. She said it was crucial that you did not know what you could do or who you were until you were old enough. We weren't supposed to treat you any different than the adorable little boy we loved you as. An-to-ni visited you in secret every year on your birthday to see how you were doing, and would appear to you when the time was right. But..._

_"_You got killed."

_We were meant to die, son. Just as you and Mako were meant to fight along side Korra. I know life has been anything but kind to you boys, but I promise you that Destiny is your friend_.

"But...Mom, Dad..._I'm scared."_

Their transparent forms floated closer to him, hands so close to his cheeks that he swore he could still feel the warmth coming off, and the scent of vanilla in the room.

"Please don't leave."

_There is no more time, darling,_ they started to fade, _we will always be with you..._

And then he was alone once again.

But for the first time in the last horrid months, he didn't _feel_ alone.

He didn't cry, or curse his life, or lay back down.

He got up, slowly, on strong legs. He stood up straight, shoulders back, and walked out the door.

He needed to find Chan.

* * *

Mako hated waiting at the best of times, but he'd never been quite so tempted to force the issue as he was when Lin told him to give him ten minutes after the start of his shift to come into her office. A New Age=fear+ anger= violence, after all. Mako waited by the door anxiously, nearly ready to ram it down. The seconds were counting down, and he jumped out of his seat the moment the minute hand on the clock changed.

Lin barely had time to open the door, before he nearly bumped into her. "So, did you tell them?"

Lin put her hand up, and started walking. Clearly, she did not want to go back in her office.

_"No."_

Mako's mouth practically fell to the floor, and he stood there in the middle of the hall for a good stupefied five seconds before he realized that she was still walking. He tried to keep up the best he could, but this damn leg felt like lead. "Chief? W-wait up!"

Lin said nothing, just kept going down the hall, and making a right at the stairs. She stopped at an unmarked door, and rammed it open.

_"Chief!_ This is important! What are you-_gahh!"_

He was dragged into the closet ungracefully by his collar.

"Ugh!" he grumbled when he banged his head on the ceiling. Lin pulled his face down to her by his collar, a menacing scowl on her face. "Would you shut your trap, you idiot?! The walls have ears!"

Mako blinked. "B-but you said-"

"I know what I said!" She snapped. Agni, she was getting too old for this. Rookies were a waste of her time. Then, she began to calm down. She let Mako breath again, but not before muttering out another curse. "Damn it, Mako! Do you know how much trouble you cause, just by being related to your brother, and friends with Korra? People are watching us like hawks! The World is in chaos! You can't just barge into my office with a warrant out for some criminals, and expect me to stop everything and bow to you!" Her face was hard, but her words were laced with sympathy. Lin would never admit it- _like, ever_- but she'd grown soft on the boy. Damn his good intentions and lack of parental figure. She was the Chief of Police- she wasn't cut out for being caring.

"These guys aren't just 'some criminals'! And this is Asami were talking about!" Mako had to force himself to remember who he was talking to. Lin's glare made him clear his throat. "Chief, these guys sunk her into the ground! They don't mess around, they-"

"-I know, damn it!" She smacked his hand away. Honestly, the kid didn't think she knew how to do her job. She'd been busting all sorts of scum since before he was born. "I was there at the trial, Mako, I _know_ how these guys work!"

"Then why didn't you call the Earth Kingdom Police? That's probably were they're headed next with Asami!" He exclaimed. Why wasn't she getting this? Was he speaking gibberish?

"They aren't." She sighed. Mako noticed her tiredness seemed to permeate her whole face. She seemed to age five years in the last five months. "I had witnesses describe their whereabouts going to an undisclosed location in the East Side of the City. And border patrol never saw them, so they're in the City- no doubt about that. Everyone knows who they are, kid. They wouldn't go back home-they're not stupid. We just have to find them."

"So why haven't you put out a search for her?! Why-?"

Lin explained that with everything going on, the whole squad couldn't risk putting their time and effort into this. The citizens were on un uproar as it was, and most of them sided with the thugs in Bolin's trial. People actually wanted Rai and Archida to hold Asami ransom to get Korra to veto the new Laws and drive out the Spirits, as well as get Bolin locked up.

All in all, they were screwed either way.

"We're gonna do this," Lin berated, "But we're gonna do this quietly. A few of us are gonna go track the bastards down, and get Asami out. No news reports, no press, no ransoms." Mako looked at her doubtfully. He trusted his boss, but sometimes doing things his way seemed so much easier. "You want more riots and violence? " Lin went on,"'Cause I sure as hell don't. Get the leg of yours in tiptop shape by this time tomorrow, and get bring your brother and Korra. I'll talk to Tenzin."

Mako blinked rapidly as Lin opened the door. The barrage of light made him squint. This was becoming too stressful for him to handle. Take down some thugs, and an drug bust? Sure, his pleasure. Could he insult Viper and do the honor of putting the pussy in handcuffs, while he was at it?

But these guys...Just thinking about that horrid incident made Mako shiver. It wasn't even how menacing they were, with their beady eyes and towering build. It wasn't even how loud Asami had screamed as she sunk. It was how quickly his brother's face had switched from the lovable kid he knew, into ..._something_ whose eyes had looked right through him. It was how Bolin's yells had been without mercy, and how he had almost seemed to enjoy how the thugs' had pleaded and begged as their blood came out.

He was _scared_ of that _something,_ even if he didn't know what it was.

But whatever had happened- that something wasn't his brother, no matter what anyone thought. And now Bolin couldn't bear to be brothers anymore.

He fucking hated this.

_"Mako."_

Said firebender looked up, oblivious to anything she had said in the last few moments.

"You okay, kid?"

"I.." What was the point of lying anymore? "No, actually. I'm far from okay." And Lin did something that amazed him.

She put her hand on his shoulder.

"Look, kid. Things are shit right now- I'm not even gonna deny it. But this is how we're gonna solve them. It ain't gonna be pretty, but you should know by now that things in this job ain't done all nice and sweet. Rest up tonight, and bring everyone back here at noon." And with that, she started walking away.

"Ahh..._Cheif!"_

She stopped, and turned, brow quirked up.

"It's just..." He hesitated. His hand rubbed the back of his head, and he had no idea what he needed to say to her. '_No, I can't do this'_? Had things gotten that complicated? What did he need? "I..."

Her hands rested on her hips, and she gave him a _'spit-it-out-you're-wasting-my-time'_ look.

"It's Bolin."

There. _That_ was it, wasn't it? It had always been about Bolin. He'd always come first. Lin's gaze asked for more, so he continued. "I'm really worried about him, Chief. Things between him and me- him and all of us actually- aren't really...good?...right now. To say the least." He shrugged and closed his eyes. Behind his closed eyelids, could see those sad green eyes, so dark, and dull with lacking life, before he slammed the door on him. "He's been avoiding us all since, well, ...since the Abdicator. I had to literally break into his apartment to get him to talk to me, and when I did..." He opened his eyes and stared right at her. "He said we should stay away from each other for my own protection from him. H-he said...he told me we can't be brothers anymore."

"Awe, kid..." Mako was surprised to see Lin's stony façade break at that confession. Her face softened like someone pretending to be her, and failing. It looked like a Chief Beifong imposter.

"I just don't think he could really handle seeing those guys again, right now."

Mako saw her eyes looking up at him. When he looked at her, he didn't see the hardened Chief of Police, disgusted by all she thought threatened her home. Or even Lin Beifong, daughter of a blind legend, whose legacy she could only hope to adhere.

No, he saw a woman-who unlike all the people who had treated him so badly in his life- this woman _believed_ in him. She saw a woman who _cared_ about him. Who wanted the best for him. And he thought that was what he always imagined his mother looking like.

"Look, kid. " She took a deep breath, collecting herself a bit, as if that was all the feelings she could produce in one day, "I know you don't want any cheesy advice right now, and if Tenzin ever heard me being all sentimental, he'd never let me live it down. But I'm going to tell you something that a very wise and noble man once told me."

Mako could swear he started tearing up.

"He said, _'Lin, in the darkest of times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength_.'"

"Chief, I...I don't..."

She held her hand up to silence him. "Life's always gonna keep moving kid, whether you like it or not. Your brother needs you now more than ever, Mako. Go to him. And if he tries to shut you out, push harder. Push until he finally gets that you ain't leaving him no matter what, got it?"

Mako nodded. Something got stuck in his throat, and he had to swallow fight back the itchy feeling. No, he had had enough tears. He wouldn't cry, not in front of Beifong-

"_Got it."_

"Good." Then the _'Ms.-no-business-look-at-me-wrong-and-die'_ face came back right into place. "I've had enough chitchat for one day. It's time to bust some heads."

Lin spun on her, and the clanking of her armor was a distant echo in his ears.

"Thanks, Chief..." he mumbled. But before he could go back to his desk, the feeling of something crinkling in his hand caught his attention. He looked down to find a scrap of paper tucked between his fingers, the characters undoubtedly scrawled in the Police Cheif's loopy left hand. Mako shook his head with a smile; _he_ wasn't even that crafty. How she managed to place the paper there without him noticing was beyond him.

When he finally unfolded all the creases, the words jumped out at him all with neatly dried ink.

_When you get the chance, go ask Jinora for it. Shouldn't be too hard for you. It's a great read by a great man. Inspiring. _

_-Cheif _

_P.S. Get back to work!_

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. If he went to the Island, all he would be trying to read would be the word bubbles above Ikki's head.

Maybe he could slip it under Bo's door. If anyone needed some hope right now, it was the earthbender.

He stuffed the paper back in his pocket, and decided his next move.

* * *

Chan's fingers twitched as he opened the front door. The beating of his heart echoed through the floorboards, and screamed at him throughout the quiet house. If he wanted to, he could phrase right up to his locked bedroom door, and call it a night-but he knew using his powers in his house would just make things worse.

When your father whom you are named after, is a lawyer who fought against Bolin in court, and tried to get the _Spirit and Powers Protection Laws_ taken away, being one of said children whom he would love to put on a skillet, does not help your case.

The sweat trickled down his back, and Chan felt like he was in some kind of eerie play.

_Scene 1; Chan looks down the long hallway, and sees that the cost is clear. He still proceeds with caution..._

"M-mom...?" his voice called out. He prayed she was asleep. It was passed midnight; she had to be. And dad was out late with his 'buddies'. She wasn't in the living room, as he had expected her to be, past out on out the couch by the radio, a litter of beer bottles around her.

_Scene 2; Chan passes by the kitchen to inspect any signs of the Good Samaritan leaving any remnants of food. The cabinet is left open, but no crumbs are visible. A crumpled box of takeout lies on the counter, the bottom of the bag stained with grease. No food is in sight, and the fridge is empty as ever. The sink faucet is still running slightly. He surveys the room once more, before he goes to turn it off. The pieces_ _are not adding into place; Chan is filled with fear and confusion..._

"Mom...?"

Silence.

He feels like he's choking on his breath.

He takes last glance down the hall, before walking over to the staircase to the second floor. His foot lands flat on the first step-

Something hot and solid meets his face with a crack, and stars pop out of his vision. He blinks open his eyes, and he's splayed out on the floor. She's towering over him in a big, sweaty, liquory mess, with blazing eyes and her first extending out.

He doesn't even flinch when the next blow hits him. He's learned by now that fighting either of them will only make it last longer. If he's lucky, he'll only get a black eye and bloody nose this time. He's really lucky his dad isn't home. Dad's a firebender, and when he's pissed at Chan, he has no problem with using the heat.

Punches hurt less than second-degree burns. He'd rather have punches.

"You little _shit!_ Do you have any idea what you've done!?"

His mother's grimy hands grip his collar and press his head against the wall so hard, he sees stars. Chan was shoved harder and harder into the wall, her horrible breath making it hard to breath. It wouldn't be the first time she'd cracked his ribs, but she seemed not sober enough for that tonight. Lucky him.

He could phase through her right now, avoid every punch and kick she threw at him. But it wouldn't change anything.

When he first got his Power, he thought it was a blessing. He'd be free of their torment. He could go wherever, without being noticed.

But they only hated him more. Freaks aren't welcome in their fine household, as his father so put.

And Chan's learned something lately after he realized that it wasn't just _him._ That his parents were this way because they were horrible people, and it wasn't his fault.

He could try to make them love him as much as he wants, but it wouldn't do any good. Change only seemed to deepen the void between love and hate, between child, and, thing.

He guess that it's because the more thing's change, the more they stay the same.

"Mom, I-"

His glasses get crushed in her fingers. A jagged piece cuts his nose. Chan flinched. He remembers how his father bought them for him years ago as a 'reward' for being 'good'. Good meaning cooking all their meals for a week, and not saying a word when Social Services showed up.

"Shut up!"

He swerves to the left and backs away, slowly.

"I asked you a question, boy!" she spat. He could see the yellow coating her teeth. "Do you know what you and your little monster friends have done?! "

_Damn right I do, woman. We're changing the fucking world to make it better from people like you!_

He shakes his head. "No, ma'am."

He can't breathe. The walls are closing in and all he can see are limbs coming toward him. He's falling...falling...Like he's having a panic attack (but he's eight and doesn't understand why he doesn't feel safe around Mommy and Daddy and _'nothing to see here, Officer. No reason to panic. Chan and us are doing just fine. Right, son?_' His mother's too-tight grip on his shoulder, the Officer's eyes turned on him, asking him if he felt 'okay/safe/loved here' if Mommy and Daddy ever 'hurt' (destroyed) him, and Daddy's eyes boring into him, telling him he better lie, or get the pounding-of-his-life later, _'Go on, Chan. Tell the nice Officer the truth_.' He looks up at the man's kind green eyes, and doesn't know who he's afraid of more. _'Y-yes, Mister. I'm fine. I l-love my Mommy and Daddy'_

"You." she pointed a shaky finger right at Chan's forehead. "You and your little friend Twelvey, got your father fired! The law firm said he was 'unfair' and 'ludicrous' and 'currupt'. Said he should be caring for the children and Spirits and blah blah blah."

His abdomen gets a harsh jab by her foot. Chan sinks to his knees with a moan.

"He's fired because of _you!" _Her voice is screaming in his ear. "We're destroyed because of _you! _How are we going to eat?! Where are going to fucking live?! On the fucking streets?!

Chan grimaces, and wobbles up on shaking legs.

"Bolin." he mutters.

"What was that?" she leers. She stomps on his glasses.

He slowly lifts his gaze to hers, ember to ember.

"Bolin." he remarks lowly. "His name is Bolin. Not 'Twelvey'. Not 'Number Twelve'._ Bolin._ He's my friend."

_"I don't give a shit!"_ She advances on him, spit flying from her mouth. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson, you brat! Then I don't ever want to see your face again!"

Her arm rocks back, then flies at him, aimed for his face. This time, Chan phases, totally tangible, and smirks as her hand goes right through his head, and smashes into the mirror.

Shards go soaring, and she falls back as her hand comes away with blood.

"_Wish granted," _

She growls, and starts lumbering toward him. In one swift move, Chan grabs her arm, and makes it tangible, sticking it into the wall before she has time to blink.

She stares at it for a good five seconds before firing off a round of curses. "You little-gahhh! Fuck!" The grunts turn into exasperated yells as she tries to pry her arm out of the wall. "You little shit, get me out of here!"

Chan begins up the stairs to pack his belongings up, wincing at his bruises. He'll have to ask Ta Gee to heal him later-

He nearly stumbles back, gripping the railing with white knuckles when it hits him-_yet again-_ that Ta Gee is never coming back.

Just like the day before.

And the day before that. And that he could have saved him-

No, he can't think like that. Not again. He promised his best friend that he'd push on for him. That he'd do it for all of them.

"Chan? C-chan, baby? Please, help me? Get Mommy out of here."

He stops again, now at the very top step. He can hear her whimpering.

"Chan, Mommy needs your help!"

And he almost-_almost-_ turns around.

Instead, he bites his lip, and stocks off toward his room. Inside, he rams his drawers open, stuffing clothes into a bag. Toothbrush, toothpaste. Comb. Deoderant-

Deodorant? Why, so the bastards can inhale his lovely 'Ocean and Lillies' scent before killing him? Complement him on how shiny his teeth were?

_Stop thinking like that. You're not gonna die._

_But I want to._

_No, you don't. You promised Ta Gee and Kuzon. And what about Mie? You have to save her._

_I don't care._

_Yes, you fucking do._

Chan griped his dresser hard enough that his knuckles turned white. He cared, and he hated that he did. Because it hurt to care. And it really hurt to hope.

Maybe that was why his parents always hit the things they were supposed to care about. Because they were afraid, too.

It accrued to Chan that he was very much like his parents, because he always managed to hurt things. But at least he cared.

As Chan walked out of his house into the dead of night, his mother's yells still echoing as he went through the back yard, he knew that would be the last time he'd ever see her. And he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

There were some things in life that mattered enough to put everything else behind; his friends were all of those things.

Wen was going to have his head if she found him all banged up. Besides, they had a team to rally up.

The radio he was carrying, popped and crackled as the last lyrics hummed along at the end. Chan turned the volume up:

_"I'll do my best, what else can I do? Since I wasn't born perfect like Dad or you... Mom, I will try to, try hard to make you Proud of your boy..."_

* * *

Bolin got to the Warehouse at about five in the morning, with the intention of sleeping there for a few hours before Chan and whatever kids he'd managed to rally up arrived. He was hoping he could pull Chan aside and apologize for how he acted the other day, before everything got all official. He wouldn't deny he had acted like a jerk, and they both needed to be on good terms to have their heads in the game. The stakeout needed to happen tonight, for the first step of busting the others out.

However, when he arrived, he was surprised to find the radio humming, and the flap in the door opened.

"Chan...? He called into the little window, "You there?" The younger teen was clearly seen sitting upright on the couch, wrapping some tape around his arm. Bolin could tell right away that something was off.

"Chan, dude? Can you open up?" Said teen silently stood up, and opened the door without so much as a blink.

"What, no witty remark?"

Chan shrugged. "I'm all wittyed out, Spooks."

"Tell me about it." Bolin thought this may be the right time to stop beating around the bush and address the issue at hand. Why Chan's glasses were missing and he clearly looked like he'd just been caught by the Traids on a bad day.

"Chan, are you alright? Where you jumped? Who did this to you?"

Bolin saw Chan flinch. He waved his hand nonchalantly. "s nothin' I'm fine, Spooks. Jus' got in'a little fight."

Bolin followed Chan to the couch. "It's not just nothing, man. Was it the Surrogates?"

"Psh, you think if it was them, I'd be here right now?" He snapped.

Bolin blinked and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Look, man. Chan...about what I said yesterday? I was a-"

"-a jerk? Yeah, you were."

Bolin closed his eyes and exhaled. "Can I please finish?"

"Sorry," Chan muttered, and he really did sound sincere.

"Don't." Bolin shook his head. "It's my fault. I was a total ass and blamed you for something you have no control over. Everyone has their shit, and I shouldn't have bitched at you for your own." Spirits, he felt so weary. How the hell were they supposed to fight these guys, when he barely wanted to get out of bed? "So, look. I'm not normally an ass, and even though it's not excuse, I've just been...going through so much...pain, and...total shit...these passed few months. And..." Bolin sighed and ran a hand over his hair. "I exploded, okay? Like combustion via jerky-ness. It wasn't fair to you. Please forgive me?"

Chan just looked at him for a moment, and smiled. "Spooks, it's impossible to stay mad at you forever. Only a heartless person could do that." he stated. "Or a ghost. 'Cause they're already, ya know, dead and all."

"Not helping."

"Sorry."

"But, really, man, no worries." He patted the bigger teen's back.

"R-really?"

"Yep. If I stayed mad at every shit-thing someone did to me, well, then, I'd just be one big ball of mad. And that ain't good for the ladies."

Bolin chuckled. "Just you wait. Soon you can say that right to Mie, and she'll be with us."

"Yeah, yeah. Man, we gotta get you a girl. You look more depressed than a firebender in a snowstorm."

That earned a snort. "Pfft." Bolin plopped down on the couch and opened up a beer. "Please, like a girl would ever want me. I should come with a warning label: _"Handle With Care. May Self Destruct Under Pressure."_

"At least you'll come with a receipt." Chan wiggled his eyebrows, and tipped back his head for another swig of beer.

"Where do you come up with this stuff, man?" Bolin picked up a dart a threw it at the wall. Bull's eye.

"It's a 'Chan original', my man. I'll give you a copy if you like."

Bolin rolled his eyes with a smile. For the first time in his life, he imagined that this might be what it was like to have a little brother. Or a best friend. Wasn't it the same thing?

"I'm just...not looking for that kinda relationship with a girl right now. I gotta fix my own relationships with some other people. If they still love me." He muttered.

Chan's face softened. He looked at Bolin sadly for a few moments, before laughing again. Because a joke makes everything better, right?

"No girls, huh? How 'bout guys? Ya know, if you roll like that, or not."

Bolin made a face that Chan declared to be inbetween a dying cat-owl and a bad piece of fish.

"Or not." Chan nodded, "Got it."

About a half our passed in silence, and both boys seemed to be fine with that. They occupied the time by listlessly listening to the radio drone in and out of music and news reports, while slurping room temperature _'flameo instant noodles'_. Chan noticed Bolin keeping his gaze pointed toward a certain point in the room, his lips kept parting as if were silently speaking some words, or trying to remember something. Every so often, he clutched his head.

Chan asked if he was okay, and he got the_ 'It's nothing'_ treatment. Chan surmised that he had wrote Bolin's prodding and concern off as nothing, so it was only fair to return the favor. Besides, if he wanted him to know, he'd tell him. At least that's what Chan had always been taught. Don't poke around in people's busy, his Dad had always said, _leave their shit alone, and if they talk, then deal with it. You're not so important to anyone that they'd want you to know their shit, Chan_. Chan wasn't sure he wanted to know half the stuff that went on in Bolin's head anyway. It scared him to think about it.

Just as Chan was done with his noodles, and was in the middle of icing his black eye, Bolin said his name.

It wasn't even like he said it in an annoyed way or anything. Just the way Bolin spoke his name, the end cracking a bit, his voice hitching up, made him freeze. He'd never been so afraid of his own name before. Not even a menacing scream from his mother to come down the stairs, (_Chan, get the fucking hell down here, right_ _now, you shit!) _where he knew a brutal beating awaited him, could send shivers down his spine like that moment.

_"Chan."_ The damn kid sounded like a wounded cat-owl.

Chan swallowed, as he put down his ice pack and walked over to where Bolin was sitting.

"What is it, man? What's wrong." He put his hand on Bolin's shoulder, tried to look into his eyes, but the pupils were small and dilated. He was sweating profusely, and Chan's hand came back damp.

"S-so _angry..._so much..._fear..."_ Bolin's lips moved a mile a minute, silent words shaping his lips. He closed his eyes, swallowed, and opened them again.

Chan blinked, staring at Bolin in a helpless state. He recalled Bolin telling him that he could feel what other ghosts felt, physically and emotionally. That if he had a vision of how the ghost died a certain way, he'd feel every once of it, and wake up with some of the same injuries. And right now it was pretty freaking clear that this ghost was _angry_ and _afraid_.

Of course he'd heard stories about the Chosen Children that were killed and the whole Abdicator's demise. He had lived it, it had been all too real for Chan and them. But this was the first time Chan realized how much it must suck to be Bolin, and he made a promise that he would never abandon him again.

Bolin moaned and slumped against the couch. Chan jumped to try and catch him. "Hey! Hey, man, hey, hey...Take it easy..." Chan gripped him under the armpits and propped him upright again. Chan was trying not to freak, but the kid honestly sounded like he was having some kind of asthma attack.

"Bolin," Chan cupped his hands around the earthbender's cheeks. "Calm on, man, breath. Talk to me, what's going on?"

Bolin just winced again, and made a pathetic whimpering sound.

Chan filched. Bolin honestly sounded just like how his pottle-monkey had started crying, before his dad decided to drag it out of the house and set its tail on fire during one of his rages last summer.

"Hey, you with me, man? Talk to me!"

Bolin's eyes flash open again, and fixed right back on the spot in the room by the corner. Chan had had e-fucking-nuff of this. This ghost was going to hell. Chan shot up, and stomped into the corner. "Hey!" He screamed, "I don't care who you are, leave him alone!"

"C-chan..." Bolin groaned, trying to sit up, "D-don't..."

"No, I will!" He snapped, "You know why? 'Cause you don't fucking deserve this shit. It's not your fault they're dead!" He turned around and flailed his arms at the spot; he might as wall been screaming to air, but this freak was hurting Bolin, and he didn't care. "Do you hear me?! Go away, and leave him alone!"

"Chan, he..." Bolin breathed deeply through his nose, and opened his eyes. "He says he's sorry. N-never realized what all his-his... hate did. W-was so blind..."

"What the hell are you taking about?" Chan looked at him with horrified eyes. Tears had started to form in Bolin's eyes, then Chan's starting tearing and Chan didn't _want_ to cry, didn't understand _why_ he was crying, or why he felt so _afraid. _"Ta Gee and I were best friends. We never fought."

Bolin's head just shook back and forth. "No, Chan. He says he..." Bolin squinted his eyes and peered harder as if he were concentrating. "He says he was sick, and he's sorry. He should have gotten help. He should have let you go. He was so angry with himself. He wants you to know..." Bolin whipped his tears on his sleeve.

"Damn it, Bolin!" Chan yelled. He strode over to him and balled up the collar of his shirt. "Who the hell wants me to know what? Answer me!" It took Chan all of five seconds of Bolin blinking up at him, to realize he had been in this same position countless time before; his mother fisting his shirt, holding him up against the wall as she screamed, and he blinked up at her fearfully.

_The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree_, he thought bitterly. _The more things change, the more they stay the same._

Chan slowly put Bolin back down, and his arms were shaking.

Bolin looked at him then, straight in the eyes. "He's sorry that he made you lie that day. He says it just hurt too much to care."

"N-no..." Chan slumped to his knees. Shaking arms, shaking legs, shaking everything. _"No..."_

"When he got fired last night, he couldn't bear coming home. He knows he messed up with you, and wanted to take you away from her. He just couldn't stand the pain, and then when you got your powers..." Bolin closed his eyes. "He jumped off of the bridge at midnight." He said monotonously. "He just wants you to know that he's proud that you never ended up like him, and that'd he'd take it all back if he could."

Chan couldn't believe this. No, he doesn't get that chance. His fucking excuse for a father didn't get to say he finally loved him when he was fucking dead.

"Yeah?" Chan yelled, "Well, you _can't_ now, old man, can you?! If you loved me, why did you beat me up every day!? Why did you fucking kill yourself?!"

"_Chan,"_ Bolin whispered, now kneeling right by him. Chan looked up through his tears to see Bolin's face. He looked like shit, honestly. Like he hadn't slept in weeks, with bloodshot eyes, and he was definitely thinner than when they had first met. The guy looked like it was taking every ouch of strength for him not to pass out.

"Chan, please, I know its hard..." Bolin shook his head again. "_No._ I can't imagine what this must feel like for you," he spoke quietly, "But I can feel your father's emotions, and I know the pain he feels, and that the regret is real. If you don't forgive him, he'll never move on."

"_Good."_ He smacked Bolin's hand away. "He deserves it! Why should I forgive him? He never loved me, so why-?"

"-Because you know it's the right thing to do." Bolin slowly began taking his gloves off, ready to show his hands. "He's showing you love now, and isn't that all you ever wanted? He'll never move on, and be forgiven. And _you'll_ never forgive yourself."

"I don't...I..." Chan turned away. "I can't do this. No, no..."

"Chan, hey, look at me." Chan's chin was gently lifted up, to meet Bolin's gaze. "I know- _I know-_ it hurts more to care. I know it hurts to want to remember something that you never had, and it feels unfair when a horrible thing happens to you, and you didn't deserve it. But you _can_ do this."

A whole two minutes passed before either of them said anything. Then, Chan wiped away his tears and looked back toward the corner.

"_Okay,"_ he said quietly, "Where is he?"

"Right there." Bolin pointed.

Chan looked around. "That doesn't help me."

"I know, sorry."

"D-dad...Dad...I..." Chan swallowed. "I want to ask you so many questions. Like why...?" Chan's shoulders sagged. Tiredness seemed to take hold. "But I can't hate you anymore. I'm too tired of hating you, and mom." He looked back at Bolin. Bolin gave an encouraging smile and nodded. "You can go now, Dad. It's...It's _okay."_

Chan backed up in shock; he swore some light danced in the corner. Something...some shadow.

"Does that mean he's ready?"

Bolin nodded. "It does. He's happy." Chan started crying again.

Bolin took off his other glove and stretched his hands. He motioned for Chan to give him space, and he closed his eyes. Chan watched as Bolin concentrated for a few minutes, eyes shut tight, and when he opened them, his eyes blazed bright green. Bolin took a few steps closer to the spot, and snapped his hands out, instantly igniting the symbols on his skin. He moved his hands up and down, and whirl of energy seemed to gather in the corner.

_"An-to-ni-shi-a'la-po..."_

"B-bolin...?" Chan stepped back, trying to shield his eyes.

"_Ta-ma-shi-a'la...Ja-lilic-sho-ma-abo..._

Bolin snapped his hands at the corner again, the symbols on the carpet seeming to dance, his voice raising higher with each second.

"_Sh'sho-anti-reph, sho-ma-abo!" _He yelled. And then everything faded. With a jolt, the lights died down, and Bolin feel to his knees with a moan.

"Bolin!" Chan slid right next to him, embracing him. "Are you okay?! What...?"

Bolin was panting and sweaty, but lifted his head, with a tearful smile. "I'm fine, bud. Everything's okay. You're dad's gone now."

"He..." Chan swore his heart stopped. "He's gone."

"Yeah. He is. You did the right thing, you know." He said, "Oh, Chan, come here..."

And Bolin swore he had never hugged anyone that tight and for that long besides Mako.

After what felt like forever, Chan lifted up his face from Bolin's chest. The kid had had a good cry, and now just looked exhausted.

"Well," Bolin sighed and fisted his hands. "Why don't you say we go rest up for a bit? Get some food or something. We still got a few hours before the circus come into town, huh?"

Chan hit his shoulder, but not without a smile. "The _circus?"_

"You know what I mean." Bolin got up slowly, wincing, and helped Chan up. "C'mon."

Bolin walked to the door, and flung it open, letting in the cool morning air, and the aroma of garbage wafting in from the alley. The sun was just starting to come up.

"Hey." Chan said.

"Hmmm?"

"...Thanks."

Bolin smiled. "They don't call me 'Spooks' for nothing'."

Chan playfully shoved him. "Hey."

_"Hmmm?"_

"What does your little chanting even mean, by the way? Like, do you have a whole book of it that you write down?"

Bolin just snorted and shrugged. "Ahh...I don't know. I can't really explain it." He rubbed his neck,"It just sorta comes to me, I guess."

Chan chucked. "Agni..."

"What?"

"It's just...Dude, you're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness."

Bolin shot him a look. "At least I come with a bookmark." He insinuated.

Chan just snorted and ran out of the shack ,mumbling something about needing to get some air, and was gonna buy them some breakfast.

As Bolin watched him go, he leaned on the wall for a minute and smiled. It was _nice_...to have a friend. Maybe he _did_ deserve one.

* * *

While Bolin was waiting for Chan, he got insanely restless; all those lingering emotions floating around were buzzing inside him, and pounding at his head. Plus, he hadn't eaten in about, maybe two-_three_-days? Not that he really noticed before. Depression does that kinda thing.

So in order to make himself useful, he decided to practice some bending. And, he actually managed to make a trashcan blow up on the second try, with minimal after effects. He only dry heaved once. A new record.

After few minutes, he whipped his forehead and closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall. A nice breeze was picking up, and cooling him down.

Bolin must have been knocked to the ground, because the next thing he knew, there was a cloth being pressed to his mouth and nose. He tried to scream, but that just made breathing harder. He tried to bend; he bit on the fabric, searching for fingers. He kicked and flailed, but to no avail. All the lessons he had been forced to learn on the street when getting jumped, failed to help him in any way. His vision became a spinning vortex of blurring colors, and he could feel his eyes rolling back into his head. He knew the next time he woke up, it would be in a horrible place. He just prayed it would be over soon. As he lost consciousness, he wondered where the justice was- where a kid could be bound and gaged in the dead of night, and no one would know. Where a child would watch his parents been burned alive in an alleyway, and the world would keep on turning.

_You either hustle, or get hustled._

The last thing he heard were deep voices, and throaty chuckles of two men, before he succumbed to a dark, unwanted sleep.

* * *

_Thank you everyone, please update! More on Asami and Mako and Korra next chappie. A certain love interest is coming soon, too._

_PS. If you name is Boa, or sounds like Boa, and you think this review will not fit, please make two separate ones. Please and thank you. :)_


	7. How Far We've Come

_Who knows how long I've been awake now  
The shadows on my wall don't sleep  
They keep calling me  
Beckoning  
Who knows what's right; the lines keep getting thinner  
My age has never made me wise  
But I keep pushing on and on and on and on...__  
__  
Imagine Dragons - Nothing Left To Say Lyrics _

* * *

Asami struggled in vain against the straps binding her. Sure, she was a black-belt in self-defense, and she'd punch creeps twice her size, but even she had to admit she wasn't indestructible. Spirits, it was like they went out of their way to make the chair tear your spine apart. She closed her eyes and thought; Alright. Aichida and Rai had gone into the other room a few minutes ago, and were very likely to come back anytime soon. She had to think fast. Pulling at these ropes was proving nothing but the increasing chances of spraining her wrists.

Why couldn't her classes have taught her how to untie binds? Asami flinched and opened her eyes when she heard the voices from the other side of the door get louder. There was throaty laughter, and definitely someone referring to her as a bitch. Asami scowled; yeah, during that moment when they sunk her into the sand, had been one of the most terrifying moments of her life. And, yes, she had thought she was going to die. But it wasn't like she was going to have an avid phobia of sand for the rest of her life, and _as if_ she was scared of these low-life's. When she had woken up at Rai and Aichida's hideout-or wherever the hell this place was- it had been followed by hungry kisses and hair pulling and curious fingers exploring her, that she would have loved to individually break.

Now the door flung open with a resounding echo, purrs deep in their throats like wild cats on the prowl. "Ready for round two, princess?"

Asami glowered and poised herself. Like _hell_ was she about to become some statistic. She wasn't just Daddy's helpless little girl. She could take care of herself.

She was Asami fucking Sato.

She titled her head up defiantly, and looked them straight in the eyes. "Ready when you boys are."

"Hmmm..." One of them -Rai, she was pretty sure-put his nose in her hair in inhaled deeply. She fought the urge to spit at them."We ain't boys, darling. Are we, Muscles?"

"That's right, Strings," Muscles went over, and lazily slung his legs over her own, until he was sitting in her lap. He took her face in his big hand and squished her cheeks. "We're men, babe. And we're gonna show you how real men show affection." With his big, blotchy face inching towered her own, there was no way in _hell_ that Asami was about to let him kiss her again.

She turns her head sharply, and sinks her teeth into the flesh of his fingers, hard enough to taste blood. He sputters instantly, a colorful range of words exploding out of his mouth, unfit for any lady. But Asami was _no_ lady.

Using this detraction for her advantage, she swings her knees up-_hard-_ into his very 'manly' parts and watches as the air leaves his lungs in wonderful mix of color draining from his face, and wheezing.

He's withering on the floor in seconds.

_Well done, Asami, _her old trainer says in her head,_ when used correctly, the knees can be the most effective and painful weapons. Weld them wisely, and they will protect you._

She bows._ Yes, sensei._

Her head jerks to the right as the blow cracks across her face like a whip, the skin stinging. Rai's dirty hand is extended forward, pulling hair roughly by her scalp, and she can't help but whimper.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart..." The mocking words are hot against her check. Asami's stomach starts to ach. "Did that hurt...?"

She swallows, gathering her courage in the process, and looks him straight in the eyes again. "'cause y'know what fucking hurt like a bitch?" He drawls. His face is so close to her's that Asami can count the stubble above his lips. He forces her head back until it bangs against the wall.

Asami winces and matches his glare. "W-when Bolin made you cry...l-like a fucking pussy?" Rai's whole face reddens like a tomato. "Oh, yeah. Takes a 'real man' to scream that loud."

_Wack!_

She flutters her eyes open once more, with a pathetic moan that makes him smile, and her blood boil.

"You mean when your freaky-ass friend fried our brains out with his fucking _mind,_ and killed Wren by crushing his fucking brainstem?" Asami imagined that if Rai were a firebender, he would have breathed an inferno with that statement.

"You deserved it, though," Her voice was steely and low. "It's just like Yuni said at the trial; you provoked Bolin! It's your own damn fault for being assholes."

By now Muscles was looking a bit better, and was straightening up beside them. The man looked like he was ready for a fight. He strode right to the heiress, and cupped her cheeks roughly, careful to avoid any teeth this time. "I'll tell ya who provoked him, princess. _You did."_

Asami raised an eyebrow. She had just about enough of this crap. "_Me._ Right. Me who he was trying to _protect."_ The anger could be heard in her voice. "Just spit it out already. Just tell me what you want with me."

"Oh, baby," Muscles purred, and the way his eyes lingered on her chest, made her sick. "It's not what we want with you. It what your little friends Avatar-what-her-face, and that monster Bolin are willing to do to get you back. Say perhaps... veto those fucking so-called 'Spirit Law Things' and get a little 'personal chat' with Bolin."

"First of all," She exclaimed, (they were _not_ going to intimidate her) "they're called _'The Spirit and Power Protection Laws', _and are made specifically for people like you! If you're gonna threaten someone, make sure you know what the hell you're talking about. And second, _do not_ underestimate Bolin or Korra. You have no idea what they'll do for the people they care about."

To her surprise, that just earned deep chuckles from the men, and smiles twisting up their faces. "We'll see about _that_, darling," Muscles leered over her, his shoulder hulking like a ten-foot shadow. "Keep yourself occupied for now; you go on radio air in twelve hours." He twisted Asami's face towered him, planting a slimy kiss on her cheek. Asami made a note to get them the raunchiest cell possible.

With that, the 19-year-old heiress watched as the two thugs spun on their heels, and slammed the door shut behind them.

Now alone, Asami finally let some quiet tears fall. For the fear she felt by being so helpless, with only a brave face and some self-defense to protect her. She wanted to rub her cheeks raw until she could no longer feel their slimy lips. It was also the pain she felt for the world, where hope and peace was always surmised, but never really archived; where the few friends she had managed to make would always be in danger. The tears were shed for those lost in the recent past, and for the unknown future where she knew she would not be able to protect those she cared about anymore. And also, maybe perhaps, because that last thing she may ever get to say to Bolin, would be the eerie ring of the phone buzzing silent as she hung up on him.

As she sat in that horrible cell, waiting for whatever was in store for her, she wondered what her friends were doing right now, if they even knew she was gone. She's sure the police were looking for her, though; Mako would make sure of that the second her whereabouts where announced in the newspaper. Korra...the Avatar was so busy with meetings and stopping riots, and talking with families of the lost...no doubt the most powerful person in the world had very little time and energy to spend looking for her. And Asami was just one girl, she thought to herself, not worth the Avatar's time in the grand scheme of the world going to shit.

She closed her eyes and groaned. And then there was Bolin. She was such a hypocrite, the knew. She always talked of being a loyal friend, and loyal daughter, and where had that gotten her? A disowned father who had tried to kill her; one she had yet to visit once in jail in all these months. And she hanging up on her best friend when he need her the most. Bolin was probably glad she was missing, she thought. She wouldn't blame him if he hated her. Having time to think about your regrets and mistakes by yourself tends to bring a sense of self-loathing as well.

She flinched when a yell was heard from the other room, followed by a thundering bang and a round of curses. If they had wanted her dead, surely they would have done it by now. When they eventually went on air in twelve hours, Asami knew she needed to apologize to Bolin, for everything. She might as well start thinking of the right words now.

Minutes pass and the words seem the fail her; she was too stressed out to really think rationally. Her throat was hoarse and dry, and her head throbbed from where it got banged; she didn't need to feel her scalp to know there was a sticky coating of blood drying in her hair. She tried to think of a happy time, to calm herself, and her thoughts brought her back to about two mouths ago, before the defeat of the Abdicator. The City was in chaos with all the children going missing and being found dead in equally horrible places. You couldn't look outside your window past seven o'clock in the evening without a police officer staring back at you, let alone leave your own house. If anyone could imagine, citizens were actually willing to look at her and her friends during that time; now it was like everyone wanted their little gang dead- especially Bolin. So, random as her stressed out thoughts may be, they took her to a slightly less stressful time two months ago. The Avatar and the Idiot were doing their respective duties, which left herself to bring Bolin out of the darkness of his apartment, and out for a night of 'fun'. She was pretty sure he hadn't left his bed in a good two days by that point, and she was willing to feed him and show him how to her work her shower, all in the name of friendship. She had brought him back to her place, and, after he had gotten cleaned up, they had ordered her favorite spicy Fire Nation take out, opened up the liquor cabinet in her basement, and let the fun begin.

She could honestly say it had been one of the best nights she could remember, and that hadn't been just the booze talking.

_"Bolin?" She muttered at about two in the morning, staring up at her ceiling. After persuading a very modest Bolin that her bed _was_ indeed big enough for the two of them, and much comfier than any of the abundant couches she had, after throwing a pillow at his head and nearly out right pulling him in with her, she began her intervention. In Bolin's defense, he was only agreeing to this because he couldn't imagine going back to his dark apartment alone, what with all the ghouls waiting for him._

_"Hmm?"_

_"We're friends, right?'_

_"Of course we are." His reply had been instant._

_"And friends share things, don't they?"_

_"Of course they do."_

_"Beds?"_

_His body was pressed against the far wall, away from her. He snuggled down into the covers a bit deeper. "Apparently."_

_"Secrets?"_

_"All the time."_

_"The blanket?"_

_Bolin blinked. "What?"_

_"You're hogging the covers." Even though it was dark, he could make out the grin on her face._

_"Oh. Sorry." He shifted backwards, offering her more of the covers. "Here, take as much as you want."_

_"Thanks."_

_She tugged at the end of the comforter, pulling it over her shoulders, before rolling over and taking it all with her._

_"Hmmm, much better."_

_"C-cold now." He muttered._

_"You're Fire Nation; deal with it."_

_"_Half._ I am half Fire Nation, and you are whole miss-cover-stealer."_

_She made horribly loud snoring noises. He wacked her leg with his foot._

_"Gahh!" They both started giggling. _

_"This is insane." He whispered. _

_"My storing is not that bad." she stated._

_"No, I mean everything that's going on-"_

_"-_Sleep,_ Bolin. Sleep is goooddddd..." She yawned. "You can be broody tomorrow. I made you leave your damn apartment for some fun." She turns her head to him now, her hair mused by the pillow. "You had fun, right?"_

_He blinks. "I...yes! I did have fun! But, I mean, you...I just..."_

_He is silenced by a pillow attacking his face. _

_"Shush! I said sleep!" The fake snoring noises increase ten-fold._

_He manages a little chuckle, and rolls over after a minute._

_"'Night, Asami." And he closes his eyes._

_It's only after a few minutes when she hears his heavy, rhythmic breathing does she turn her head around and smile. "Night, Bo."_

_Mission accomplished._

She must have fallen asleep for real, because when her eyes blink open, the light in the room coming from the cracked window panes in the ceiling, hit her face like a star.

Her feet hit something soft, and she looks down to see a damp newspaper under her; the cover page says the ransom money for her rescue is 1,000 Yuan's, and the exchange for Bolin. It says Bolin is the one who kidnaped her; that he is planning on killing her like he did all the other children. But not without getting his 'worth' out of her first. Whoever saves her and finds this 'scum bag serial killer who used to be hero' will be honored by all.

Asami sees the blurry picture of Bolin; all beaten up and bruised right after his encounter with the Abdicator, Mako's angry face is an out of focus blob to the right.

_'...I blame it on his bad childhood,' says anonymous, 'lack of guidance and being Fire Nation are two very bad combinations. Honestly? I'm surprised he hasn't been caught already. The only place scum like him land is in jail.'_

"No..." Asami feels something gross throbbing in the back her throat.

_Citizens testify that it is a shame that a probender once so admired would stoop to such horrible crimes. Republic City is once again shocked by the wrongdoings happening right in its very streets._

Asami scrolls her blurry eyes down to the main heading. Her breathing has started to become difficult.

**_Can this tyrant be stopped? The 'Child Killer' is on the loose and now has the Sato Heiress in his clutches. How will the mighty Avatar and Detective Mako defend what they cannot deny?'_**

She wretches her eyes away from the sickening words with a verbal cry. Her stomach lunges, and, without her hands there to hold it back, the vomit comes up and sprays down on the floor in a vile surge. Her chest heaves and she yells and sputters and curses the _fucking damned Spirits_ for doing this in the first place.

Bolin will never get his reputation back, that is, if he even lives that long. Asami lets out another cry, and wishes so damn much that she can burn that cursed newspaper to bits, and everyone of their faces off. She swings her legs up, struggles against the binds.

"Fuck you, you fucking bastards!"

She screams one last time; but now, a new feeling comes up from the pit of her stomach. Like anger and pain and hatred taking on a physical force and bubbling up from her gut. The feeling festers inside her, and _grows,_ grows and grows and-

_"AHHHHHH!"_

It erupts out of her mouth like an inferno; like giving birth to a star and crackling in reds and yellows and oranges until it evaporates into the air. Singe marks crust the wall; her mouth is coated in ash. She gasps and wheezes and struggles for breath, her temple sweating.

She blinks, dumfounded, at the mark on the wall. The evidence is there, but still she can't believe it.

She gasps, and stares at her hands that are crackling with heat at her sides, bound by the straps.

"I...I can _Firebend?"_

* * *

Korra was just about ready to go Avatar State.

Okay, she knew she was not the most Spirturally-aware Avatar that had ever lived, but she had been sitting with this Spirit for about an hour, trying to _calmly and rationally_ talk with it, instead of immediately sending it away via Spiritbending. She was really trying not to be a hypocrite and lose her patience, but a whole butt-load of people were watching her, and this Spirit was eating apart the side of a building like it was a hot-fudged Sunday.

She was running out of options.

"Don't just stand there!" Someone yelled, "He's eating our home!"

The Spirit sharply turned his head at the noise, and began to thrash its tail. Which only made the people scream louder, and the Spirit to get angrier.

Korra cursed. "Please," she had seemed to say for the billionth time that morning (these people_ did not_ get what_ please evacuate the scene or stay quiet. Noise_ _provokes_ _him_, meant) She approached the people once more. "You need to keep your voices down, or leave-"

"Leave?" A woman stepped closer, with defiance in her eyes, "Last time I checked, we were here first!"

That erupted in a round of complaints from other people, whom all repeated themselves for, like, the billionth time. Groaning, Korra rubbed her temples.

That was it.

Korra airbent herself up in a spiral, until she was hovering just by the Spirit's forehead. She had to evade its massive teeth chewing on the side of a window, and its tail nearly wiped her out with its swinging. Korra took a deep breath and spoke calmly. "Spirit. It's me, Avatar Korra. If you will no t listen to me, then let me help you. Show me what it is you want."

Contrary to popular belief, Korra _did_ listen to Tenzin's lessons. In the past months since Harmonic Convergence, she had been studying different ways to interact and communicate with Spirits. One way that she particularly found useful, was called _'Bonding'. _This technique allowed any Spirit to speak to her through her mind, and show her anything they wished that the physical world prevented.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, and when she opened them, they glowed the yellow tone of the Avatar State. She delicately stretched out her hand, and placed her palm flat against the Spirit's huge head. Immediately, the creature stopped his clambering, and look to her, its eyes having started glowing with Korra's energy.

_"Bond with me, Spirit."_

The edges of Korra's vision blurred out, and when she blinked, she was in a field of grass that stretched as far as she could see. She was the only living thing there, and the skies were dotted in pinks and yellows. She spun around, and the Spirit appeared right in front her.

_Avatar Korra..._it intoned, the words loud and clear without its lips even moving. _I apologize for my earlier behavior; I was not in full control of my actions. I come to you baring great warnings for the future._

_"Warnings?" Korra asked._ What else could possibly go fated to go wrong? It was like she could never make the right choice.

The Spirit nodded._ I am afraid I cannot be very specific with my message; I must keep this vague. When you left the Spirit Portals open, you not only let in good Spirit, but Dark ones, with horrible forces as well._

Korra blinked. Vague was an understatement, here. But she already knew that, right? That much was a given when she left them open. Where there is good, there is bound to be bad. Where was this Spirit going?

_Listen to your instincts, Avatar. A dark time is coming; one that will threaten the very human race for all eternity. You must not let the Spirits take over, or all hope will be lost..._

And with that, the Spirit vanished. _"W-wait! Come back!"_

The atmosphere around Korra changed rapidly. Where there was once lush, green grass, wilted into dark, dank weeds, and ink black skies filled with horrible looking creatures. Dead bodies littered the ground, some being torn apart by Spirits huge teeth.

Korra's world turned to red, and the ground beneath her cracked open, causing her to fall wildly through the air. Her screams made her voice hoarse as she grasped wildly at thin air. As she fell she saw Spirits from above, laughing at her, with blood oozing from their lips. As she was about to hit the jagged rocks at the bottom, the familiar face caught her eye. But his normally lively green eyes that she had come to know, weren't smiling in joy. His eyes were glowing pools of black, and his smile was crooked with a sneer.

_Time is running out, Avatar..._

He thrust his hands out toward her, and she felt her body snap, as her world went dark.

_Korra_...

"No...!

_Korra...!_

"No, no, help!"

"Korra, wake up!"

Her eyes snapped open and she sprang forward in frantic gasps. Her eyes darted around frantically; _Bedroom. Air Temple. Tenzin._

_Safe._

Tenzin's gentle fingers brushed the strays hairs from her sweaty temple. "T-t-tenzin...?" She gasped. Tears were running down her face unforgivingly. "I-I-I..."

_"Shhh..._Hush, darling, you're alright now."

She was pulled gently into the familiar warm embrace of orange and yellow robes. "It w-was so horrible...They we're all laughing at me and- and _he..._" Korra couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Tenzin sighed and stroked her hair. "Thank goodness, you're alright. You gave us such a fright there, Korra. I guess we have to work some more on Spirit Bonding."

Korra nuged her head back and forth in his chest, to indicate a nod. "How long was I out?"

Tenzin's brows furrowed. "Thankfully only a few hours. You hit your head pretty hard. I thought you had a concussion. My mother healed you, so you shouldn't feel any pain now, but I am going to check on you every so often."

"I'm fine, Tenzin."

"_Korra."_ The tone he used meant no nonsense right now.

Korra wearily lifted her head from his chest, and whipped her eyes. After a few moments, Tenzin asked if she wanted to talk about it.

She shook her head. "Not right now. Later, okay?"

"Alright. I'll be here when you're ready." And with that, he planted a small kiss to her temple, and went out the door. "You should get some rest, dear."

Korra nodded. But resting was the last thing she was going to do right now. She knew Tenzin would kill her for leaving, but she had to do this.

When she saw the cost was clear, she grabbed her glider, slipped off out the window, and into the afternoon sky.

There was someone she needed to talk to. If he would ever forgive her.

* * *

His eyes fluttered open; his surroundings mere silhouettes at first. His vision was blurred, and his body tingling in the _oh-shit-this-is-gonna-hurt-worse- in-the-morning_ kinda way, as opposed to the _drank-seven-Tequila's _buzz kinda way. He knew all too well what had happened and where he was, and even more so that he deserved it. But that didn't stop the tears from running down his face.

_No._ He wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

Though he had heard the stories from living on the streets first hand, as well as Mako's late-night tellings of his cases, it had taught him that when one was drugged, they had no memory of what happened a short time prior.

Fortunately, he was not hit with that epidemic. He remembered everything like it had happened only a few seconds ago.

(Mako always told him he had a good memory.) (And he did. Except for the things that mattered. Like six years worth of _mattered.)_

Yet, for the position he was in, he was relatively...calm. Society had taught him that he when someone first awakens from a chemically-educed unconsciousness, they at frist panic. Frightened of their surroundings, or where they may have been taken, and what was to be done to them.

He wasn't going to give them that, either.

He didn't have this fear. Because, really, what had he to lose? Dying? He actually found that laughable now. He couldn't bring himself to feel panic. Or maybe, it was because Mako was usually with him when shit happened, and his 'cool under fire' attitude tended to have a chain effect.

Or perhaps he had just accepted his fate long ago.

_You fight fire with fire, and someone's gonna get burned, kid._ _Don't go picking a fight you can't win. It doesn't help anything. When all else fails, you gotta use your head._

Toza's voice whispered through his mind like wind, and even though he hadn't seen his old guardian in about a year, he knew that was the only way he was gonna get out of here alive.

He blinked twice, grimacing at the harsh lights and the dryness in in his throat. His eyesight adjusted, and he felt the all-too-familiar pull of restraints. But instead of it just being his arms and legs bound, it was nearly every inch of him. And instead of the gentle straps that hospitals used, these were made of wire; tied tightly so that they cut into his flesh. His back pressed hard against the metal table, and his ankles, wrists, elbows, knees, and abdomen rubbed stiffly against the course straps. He could already feel blood swelling up from the raw skin.

As his eyes scanned the cell, he noticed a wide variety of instruments hanging from the walls, set on lab tables, and taking about every space. He also noticed a window, that he could not see through, and had no doubt that Surrogates were watching him from the other side. There was a another metal table to his left, a spring bed without a mattress on his right.

And he knew it was all for him. He was the one that was going to be explored.

He closed his eyes and tried to empty his thoughts for a few blissful moments. It proved impossible however, with being unable to move. He imagined that when the wire straps were first tied, blood had ran down his arms and legs in small rivers. Maybe his blood wasn't even red anymore. He wasn't human, right? Maybe daemons had, like, _green,_ or _black_ blood. Maybe he should find out, and make this whole process a lot faster...

_Stop that_, he told himself, _thinking like that won't get you anywhere._ He opened his eyes, and forced himself to look down at his arms. By now, the blood was dry, (red as crimson) and the only reminder of its existence being a few places that felt like he had grime stuck to him. Like when he and Mako used to live in the dumpsters, and no matter how hard he scrubbed, the sludge would never come off unless they went in the bay. It wasn't a good feeling.

Bolin couldn't help but be surprised with how quiet the room was. He was sure that the moment he woke up, someone would be right beside him, ready to perform tests. But indeed, there was no one. No shadows behind the window. No screaming and yelling from the other kids who were locked up.

Nothing.

And _that_ kinda scared him shitless.

And what was _really_ quiet, what really _surprised_ him, was his own _mind_. He didn't know how much time had passed since he had woken up-_minutes? hours? days?-_ but so far, he hadn't _felt_ anything or anyone one or _seen_ anything. And for once is so long, his skull didn't feel like it was being cut open with a saw. He didn't feel any others' emotions; he was all..._him_. Messed up, creepy him, but still. If he could just close his eyes, he might have been able to get in a beauty nap...

He sighed deeply. This was boring. Honestly, he knew he should be trying to escape; try to summon a ghost for help- _something_-but he didn't really see the point. This was his destiny, wasn't it? He knew any attempt at escape would just make the torture greater, and-

He was just..._tired._

Tired of the fighting and sacrifice; tired of the bloodshed and regrets, and the fear. So he settled upon listening to the labor of his heavy breathing and tuning everything else out.

His depressing thoughts were put on hold, however, when the think, large metal door to the room creaked open, reveling a tall, bulky figure.

He had guests? How rude of him. He should have made some tea or something. He-_ohhh..._

There it was. _There._ The blood-curling scream from down the hall. A resounding bang, followed by a round of curses. _Right on cue_, Bolin thought. _Light's, camera, action!_

"Hello, Bolin," The voice was cynical, yet silky. "We've been waiting for you." It resembled the Abdicator's, and at the same time, did not. This voice was deeper, more brawny; it took Bolin all of five seconds to connect it to one of his kidnappers. He shut the door behind him, completely unbothered by the disturbance down the hall. The knife he had in his hand was serrated and sparkled as he flicked it back and forth.

"Hello, Isha. I'm kinda bored, so can you just skip the whole spiel about the villainous plot you've been planning and my destiny or whatever, and kill me already?"

* * *

**Thanks for reading, guys! Please leave reviews, and comments, because I really worked extra hard on this chappie to make is less 'talking and more action' so to speak. If you need to leave two reviews, please do so.**

**Next chappie we will be introduced to Bolin's passed lives, and more on the Spirits themselves and their own motives.**

**PS; sorry for my lack of Korra POV. I love Korra, honestly! I have nothing against her. It's just...I don't feel I can write her very well at all, and she is not very interesting for me to write, in my opinion. I mean, if it's a Makorra scene like in my stories 'Echo' and 'Forever in your Kisses' it is much easier for me, because I am much better at writing romance. Just...I apologize. I know Korra is the Avatar, and I'm trying to fit her more into this story. *begs for forgiveness* I will try to do more Korra in future chappies...**

***ahem***

**Thanks again. :)**


	8. Something's Gotta Give

_Note: this is a time skip! This is in the future, after Bolin gets out from his loonnngggg torture with the surrogates. This is kinda during his healing process, I'm thinking. _

_So in the next chapter, we will pick up where we left off in the present, okay? Makes sense? Kay, awesome! Any questions, let me know. Also, I am new to first person point of view, so bare with me!_

_Please tell me what you think! :)_

* * *

Sometimes I sit and think about things.

You wouldn't expect that from me, would you? Of course not. No one would, really. I'm supposed to be the stupid, naive, carefree one.

_Hah._ Well, I used to be. Things fucking changed.

It began right after Harmonic Convergence. One sleepless night, condemned with a dream that would later come true, which led to a horrible series of events ruled by fate.

See, people say that you have free will. But they're wrong. Or they just choose to be liars. Everything is set in motion. Your destiny is your own, and it's either gonna make you or break you, so you better say your prayers.

It's when they all try and talk to me now, that it hurts the most. I don't want to tell them what goes on in my freaky mind now; the things I see, feel, go through, the negative thoughts. And I'm sure they don't want to hear it. I much rather keep to myself nowadays. Besides, I'm think I'm afraid that if I start talking, I won't stop, and I'm afraid of what I'll say. It's like they are trying to forget everything that happened-because of _me-_ and everything I did. It's like they're afraid to touch me. I'm sure if I wasn't their so-called 'friend' and Mako's 'brother', that they'd have locked me up long ago.

And maybe I should be. There certainly would be less place for a grenade like me to explode. I'm just trying to minimize the causalities when I go supernova, and I'd like to keep the people I care about out of range when I do.

And now, it's all guilt. Guilt that I couldn't see how much it pained them to watch me push away, when they tried to pull me back. But I still do it. Push away, I mean. Yeah, it's hurts like hell on both ends, but at least it's safer. Like, when Mako came to me this morning, outside to my usual spot at the gazebo, he'd done his usual spiel: he offered me food I wasn't going to eat, said some words that he hoped would be of comfort that never would be. I finally talked. More like yelled, actually. I told him that the brother he used to know and wanted, was fucking dead so he shouldn't even try anymore.

Horrible, right? I hadn't cared at the time. Why should I have? It was the truth.

I think he started crying. I don't know. I didn't look at his face long enough to tell. He threw the tray of food down really hard, though. Whoops.

And, even through I can do all these things now-_so fucking what?_ Is this supposed to make me proud of myself, or anyone, really? I always thought I was gonna die on the street somewhere when I was little. By hunger, cold, traids-whatever. My only fear was that Mako would be without me for the rest of his life, or he'd die first. When we got into probending, I thought that maybe I could be _somebody_. Somebody important, you know? People would remember me.

Oh, people will remember me, alright. They'll remember me as the monster who killed their children. The daemon who struck terror to their city.

_It's a big world_, that's what I've heard, and everyone in it knows me, even though they don't.

And Korra? She came out one night when I was practicing bending (or more so trying to break my fingers with rocks) and just sat and watched me for a few minutes. She didn't even say anything. For a minute, I got angry and immediately asked her what she was doing; did she come out here to make sure I didn't blow the whole damn Island up?

She just looked at me sadly, and said that if I didn't want to talk, I didn't have to. I had said, 'good, because I have nothing to say to any of you'. Which, obviously was saying something.

Her lips had pressed together and her brows had tiled in that ever-concerned way. She commented on how everything and everyone changes, but that doesn't mean love has to. Because love is unyielding, she said.

I chucked a rock at her and told her to keep her 'Avatar preaching bullcrap' to herself. I blamed her. I said that if she had kept the fucking Portals closed and if she had been a better Avatar and _if she if she if she_ then none of this would have happened. Guess what? I made her cry, too. Extra points on the ass-o-meter for me.

She had a meeting at City Hall the next morning, that she was absent to. No one could find where she went for those two Avatar-need hours. I didn't make the connection between my harsh comment, and her absence until a few days later.

So you see, even my words implode.

Maybe one day soon I'll self destruct and make my own brains turn to mush. Maybe my own blood with leak out of my ears for _twelve whole minutes_, or _twelve whole_ _hours_. Maybe my body will rot for _twelve whole years. _In some other lifetime I will have a different name, but my blood will still be red. It will stain the ground as I scream and cry, and someone will be standing over me, yelling chants in another language, with horrible glowing eyes and-

_No._

There are some things I don't like to think about.

I don't know why I sit and think sometimes. It can't be healthy for me, these thought. But then again, neither is dying. Maybe because I usually do it petting Pabu, the only person that loves me for me. Because my 'friends' love me, but they don't know me. And my brother likes to think he knows me, but he knows the _old Bolin_ instead, and he tries. At least he tries.

I wish he wouldn't try so hard. It hurts.

Sometimes when I sit and think, I think about how they are going to be so successful in life. It makes me smile. How Korra will be a great Avatar, and help the world. How Mako will fight all his inner daemons, and be a cop and a man that the Traids won't dare mess with. How many babies Korra and Mako are sure to have-Mako will want their son to be named after our father. I don't think I'll be around for that, though. I don't think I'll be around much longer. Mako told me once how he had a dream that he was older and proposed to Korra. It makes me laugh when I think about it. Who's the psychic one, bro? Asami comes into my mind and I think about how she's so independent, and is going to be famous one day. She's going to make people's lives so much easier. One day she's gonna meet a great guy and raise a family, and all these things make me happy.

But they also make me sad. And I wonder why that is.

Life carries on around us, and it will continue to. I hate that part of it, that maybe there's only so long that there's a chance. How do you even know when your chance is up? Maybe there never was a chance, maybe there never will be. Maybe only some people get happy endings. Maybe only some have any control over their lives.

Maybe it's because they only live once.

It might be better to move on and forget about being loved and known and being me. Maybe I should let life carry on, with the world hating me. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I should just end my sad story here and now.

But, then, I'd have to have a choice in the matter, wouldn't I? To stay, or to go.

I think about that night Asami brought me back to my place, after I got so drunk I couldn't tell left from right. I think if I was meant to die at the hands of the Abdicator, I would have that day in his chamber. It occurs to that all those times I sat in my bathroom, that knife hovering over my wrist, and those pills like little bombs resting in my hand, that I had the choice to end it _then,_ or _then_, or _then_. Was Asami taking them out of my bathroom drawer her choice, or my fate not to die?

I stare at my tattooed palms, their red singed into my flesh, shimmering. I close my hands, then open them.

And I think.

If I make it out of this alive, I want to be able to say that I did it next to people who know me, who aren't impressed by my power, but by me. I want to be able to prove them wrong.

If I don't make it alive, be it by my own hand, or come whatever, the world won't mourn. I know that for a fact. Enough civilians have sent death threats to make that message pretty clear. They, and all the dark forces that they only tell you about in ghost stories, await me in the next life, like _I_ was nothing, like I was just _that_ one after Kazu. The one who wasn't like the rest; the one who killed the Abdicator; the one who fought along side the Avatar; the one who tried so hard to be good and failed. I'm so scared, and that in itself scares me. I've never felt this way; like I'm so important, yet I'm insignificant.

Like I'm some fucking Anti-Avatar.

Either way, I'll be back someday. Someone, in the future, will speak these words whether I find the courage to or not. It's ironic, that I feel all these things, yet I can't tell them what I need, or think. And what is the point of having all this power, with this high a cost?

Is _that_ the point? Because I _know_ the cost?

I don't know. I can't think about it. My head hurts enough as it is.

I'm not supposed to be the protector. That's Mako, Korra, Asami's job. Not me.

I want to tell them all these things. But they can't hear me, can they? I think I used up all my words from screaming at them. I don't think I remember how to be a normal person. I don't remember how to look them in the eyes.

.

Eleven faces stare at me from the shadows, and I think to myself about what their lives would have been like. I make up little stories in my head for each of them; Kuzon would have been become a famous chief, like he loved; Nyla's bending would have led her to go into probending; Ta Gee, with all his wisdom, would have gotten into college; Vatani would have married a great man and had a loving family.

I think these things in my head to them, and they all smile.

_It's okay, Bolin_, they whisper back to me, _you live for us._ But I don't know if it is. Or if I can. Something's gotta give eventually.

.

Sometimes I sit and think about things.

You wouldn't expect that from me, would you? Of course not. No one would, really.


End file.
